


The Voyage

by Strudelmugel



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Character Death, Chronic Illness, Multi, RMS Titanic, Suicide, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:04:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strudelmugel/pseuds/Strudelmugel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Érzsebét had believed it would be an opportunity beyond their wildest hopes, a chance to better their lives and escape poverty. And a chance for them to be themselves, and a family.<br/>That was why she'd convinced her sickly husband and tiny child to travel halfway across the world to start their new life, despite all the risks. Even sharing a cabin with one of the most detestable people she'd met couldn't dampen her optimism, until that fateful night.<br/>And they nearly made it...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Franz- Kugelmugel
> 
> …
> 
> I've never written a fic with aushun as the main pairing before, only as a side pairing, and that's very upsetting for me because aushun is amazing.
> 
> This started out as a means of annoying ChocolateTurnip, but kinda developed into an au I found myself investing a lot of time and research into. Supposed to be a one-shot, but it kinda got long, so now it'll be a few chapters so we don't have a repeat of 'Guide me through the squall', which was insanely long. Still proud of it though :D. Same with this.
> 
> So this is set in the Edwardian era, and those who know me probably know what that means, if not, then you'll soon find out. This story follows Austria, Hungary, Kugelmugel, Romania, Bulgaria and Moldova, with robul as a side pairing. Warning for character death.

Érzsebét Edelstein wasn't sure if she was alive or dead at this point.

She just sat slumped in the crowded lifeboat, surrounded by similar, shattered souls. She ignored the morning light and the freezing air. She ignored the gentle rocking of the calm sea and the icebergs glistening around her. She ignored the other passengers who wailed or shivered or sat in miserable silence. She ignored one young man who asked her is she was alright. If she was alive.

She didn't know that herself.

She must have been alive though, because they didn't throw her overboard.

If she was dead she wouldn't be remembering how her son was ripped from her arms as the sea dragged them down. How she lost sight of her terrified husband among the others struggling to swim from the wreckage. As her head was filled with the screams and agonised cries of a thousand people dying slowly in icy waters.

She was alive and she hated the very thought.

…

_14th April 1911, one year ago_

…

Érzsebét sighed in relief as she trudged through the door, wiping dirt from her face before smiling warmly at her son as he stumbled over to hug her. Just before he reached his mother, he tripped over his feet and would've hit the floor, had she not caught him.

"Careful there, Franz," she murmured, "you'll do yourself an injury."

"I'm sorry, Mama," he replied. Érzsebét glanced up at her husband, who stared miserably at Franz from his bed. She knew what he was thinking, and refused to let such a thought invade her mind too.

"He just tripped," she hissed.

"That's how I started," he glared down at his arms and she sighed, running a hand through Franz's long hair, which tumbled down his back. The child refused to let it be cut, and neither parent really had the time or will to argue with him on that.

"Is there any supper left for me?" Érzsebét asked Franz, who nodded and stumbled over to a pot of stew boiling over the fire. She'd left it cooking slowly all day, so by now it would be just perfect. She picked up a wooden bowl and spooned some in for herself, taking in the warmth it offered and the smell of cooked vegetables. They could rarely afford meat.

Érzsebét wandered over to the bed whilst Franz played quietly on the floor with a set of crudely made wooden animals. She sat by her husband's waist, bowl balanced on her knees. Roderich gazed at her thoughtfully whilst she ate.

"Good day at work, dear?" he asked, curious.

She shrugged. "Long, as usual. Missed my boys."

"We missed you too."

Érzsebét glanced up at her husband, who smiled back warmly. He was wrapped up under a small pile of blankets, in the thin, frayed nightshirt he always wore. His brunet hair shone in the firelight, matted and unwashed. He was pale and thin from years cooped up inside, bedridden, with bags under his large eyes. Wire glasses hung from his nose and he had the tiniest mole on his chin, and Érzsebét thought he was beautiful. His smile was bright; it always was when he looked at Érzsebét.

Roderich had been sickly since childhood. Even as a small boy he had trouble moving his arms and neck, and things only got worse as he aged. By ten he was often tripping over himself, and couldn't raise his arms above his head. If his family could've afforded a house with stairs, he wouldn't have been able to climb them. It was impossible for him to straighten his arms, and he was too weak to lift heavy objects, thus couldn't become a labourer, like his brothers and father.

He'd been abandoned in his teen years; his parents simply couldn't afford to keep him so he'd been left to die in the gutter. He couldn't even sit up to beg- though he was too proud to do such a thing anyway- and walking was a luxury long gone for him. Roderich had assumed he'd die there, had Érzsebét not found him.

She'd been walking home from work, after a long day in the mines, and in the evening gloom had almost not seen him. But when she did, she'd stopped. She still wasn't sure why, but was glad that she had. She was also glad that she'd sat down next to him and struck up a conversation.

Although he was reluctant to talk to what he took to be a loud, strange boy, and she thought him to be a bit of a brat, they'd struck up the beginnings of a friendship, and she agreed to let him stay with her, in exchange for his cooking. The slightly older girl had long moved out of her family home, and had a tiny, one-roomed cottage on the edge of town, peaceful and out of the way. As she carried him home, Érzsebét confessed to Roderich that she would be glad of some company for once.

She had a home but no one to share it with, and he needed a place to stay and someone to look after him. It was a perfect match.

Of course, as Roderich's health worsened over the years, he could no longer keep up his end of the deal, but by then she was too in love with him to care.

"How's your health?" she asked, glaring at her bowl.

"Same as usual," he sighed, "my heart feels funny though."

"What do you mean?" Érzsebét glanced up, frowning.

"It's weak and pitter-pattery," he winced, "it's been like that on and off all day. It's as if it'll explode if I have too much excitement."

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing," she took his hand in hers, rubbing the soft skin gently with her thumb. Érzsebét tried to give her husband a reassuring smile, but he just shook his head.

"I fear I might not be alive for much longer."

"Don't say that! You're twenty three! You have plenty of time!" She glared at Roderich fiercely, leaning forward to brush a lock of hair out of his face.

"Érzsebét, please," he hissed, "we have no idea what's wrong with me, and if we could afford a doctor I doubt he'd know either. I'm just getting worse and worse."

"You're not going anywhere, you hear me? You belong here with me and Franz!"

Roderich didn't answer immediately, and just stared at the fire with a miserable expression.

"But," he began eventually, "what sort of husband am I to you even? What sort of father? A bad one, that's what! I can't do any of the things I should be doing for you two, and I'm sorry. You have to spend all day in that mine to keep me alive because I can't work for myself. It's not right."

"Now you listen to me, Roderich Edelstein," she growled, placing a hand under his chin and lifting his face up, glaring into his watery eyes, "I love you. I always have and always will until my last breath. That's what marriage is about, not any of those other things!"

"But-!"

"And Roddy," she added, "I work because I want to. With or without you, ill or healthy, I will always be working. It's not because you can't, it's because I can and want to, got it?"

"Yes dear," he gave a small smile.

"Besides, someone has to stay and look after Franz."

"I think it's safe to say Franz is the one looking after me," Roderich pointed out, glancing over at the five year old.

"You look after each other when I'm not here, and I thank you both for that," Érzsebét placed a kiss on her husband's forehead as Franz toddled over upon hearing his name. She picked the child up, smothering his cheeks and forehead with kisses as he giggled, then tucked him in the bed next to his father.

"Go to sleep," she told him before standing up and removing her flat cap, letting her long, chestnut hair tumble down her back. She threw the hat onto a wooden stool, which was quickly followed by her sooty waistcoat. Érzsebét pulled off her old, worn boots and set them down by the door before walking over to a tiny pail of water to wash her face and arms.

Érzsebét had been disguising herself as a boy for years now, ever since she was old enough to work. It was the only way she was allowed in the mines to dig. She was good at it by now, and everyone in the town believed she was a handsome but secretive young man by the name of Boldizsár Héderváry who lived by himself, since Roderich never left his bed and Franz only ever went outside into the back garden. It meant that Érzsebét could still take a husband- after marrying him in secret- and keep up her much needed male masquerade.

After washing, she also squeezed into their tiny bed, kissing Franz on her forehead and Roderich on the lips.

"You're perfect and I love you," she whispered before falling asleep.

…

Érzsebét still refused to talk to anyone. Even as the lifeboat made its way to the hulking form of the Carpathia- the rescue ship- she didn't look up or acknowledge the other passengers.

They were alive. They had to be, for her! There had been so many other boats dotted about that at least one would've found them. She refused to give up hope. All the lifeboats would've gone back to pick up those in the water, like No. 12 had done for her and the others huddled together on the upturned collapsible lifeboat. Roderich and Franz were probably plucked out of the water somewhere else.

Érzsebét allowed herself a smile at the thought.

They would be together again soon.

…

_Three months ago_

…

She hadn't meant to startle Franz, but as she angrily threw the front door open and slammed it shut behind her, the child jumped, bursting into tears.

"No baby I'm so sorry," she cooed, picking him up as he wailed and holding him close. "Mama's just upset."

"What's wrong?" Roderich asked, glancing up from his sewing fearfully. He pushed the shirt he was darning to one side and patted the space next to him. Érzsebét wandered over to the bed slowly- dragging her feet- and sat down at the end, still holding Franz.

"I'm so sorry…" she began, before a lump formed in her throat and she blinked back tears.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Roderich rested his hand on her's, leaning as close as his wasted muscles would allow.

"I… oh God…"

"You can tell us…"

"I've lost my job," she whispered.

"Daddy!" cried Franz, gaping at Roderich in horror as he broke into a sweat, breathing becoming quick and deep in the few seconds before he lost consciousness.

…

When Roderich opened his eyes again, the blurriness and ringing in his ears was gone and his vision was filled by his wife's concerned face.

"What…"

"You fainted, I think," she explained; "poor Franz thought you were in serious trouble." Franz nodded slowly, still wrapped in his mother's arms.

"I see." Roderich still felt disorientated from his fainting spell, and his head swam. "How long was I out?"

"Half a minute at the most." Érzsebét set Franz down on the bed and he crawled over, wrapping his tiny arms around his father's neck and sniffing.

"Oh," Roderich tried to lift his arms to hug his son back, but found he couldn't. His muscles refused to work, and he didn't have the strength to use them. His head still swam. He licked his lips nervously, glaring at his arms and willing them to move. "Do you think I'm getting worse?"

"Maybe, but I think it's more to do with what I told you just before, well, you know."

"What did you tell me? I can't remember."

"I've lost my job," Érzsebét grimaced.

"No, it can't be," Roderich pulled a face, "but you're one of the best!"

"I'm not _that_ good," Érzsebét admitted; "they let a whole bunch of us go. Something about saving money."

"That's disgusting!"

"That's life."

"But what… what do we do now?" his bottom lip quivered.

"I honestly don't know. Rent's due in a few days, and that'll take most of what we have left. If I don't find a job soon after that we'll be thrown out. Or starve."

Roderich knew he'd not survive that. Although the winter had been mild this year, he was in no condition to be sleeping rough again, amongst mud and filth and rats. And he certainly didn't want to see Érzsebét and Franz go through that either. He'd give anything to make sure they didn't, even his very life.

The worst part was there was nothing he himself could do to stop it. Roderich couldn't go out and get himself a job; the only thing he could do was sew, but since no one knew he was here, he couldn't start a job in that area either. Besides, everyone could sew their own clothes so he probably wouldn't make any money that way either. Their future was completely dependent on Érzsebét's ability to find a new job, and fast.

He truly was useless.

"I'll start looking for somewhere else to work, simple as that," Érzsebét shrugged; "there's got to be somewhere, right?"

Roderich wanted to tell her he was sorry, for everything, but couldn't bring himself to. Now was not the time to bring up his own problems when Érzsebét was hurting.

"It's okay," she gazed over at him, as if she could read his mind, "don't go blaming yourself. These things happen and you can never predict them."

"I just feel so inadequate though," he admitted, despite himself, "you've always worked so hard for us and I couldn't possibly have a hope of ever repaying you, even if I lived for a thousand years."

"You don't need to repay me for anything," Érzsebét leaned forward and placed a soft, quick kiss on his nose, "I love you unconditionally. Besides, the fact that you are here in my life is enough. You've been with me all these years. You gave me a son that I adore! You're my best friend and true love, and I'm so happy you're here."

Roderich smiled weakly; "thank you, and I'm sorry. It was selfish to think of my own problems at a time like this. I love you too, and I'm sure that together we can find a way out of this."

"It wasn't selfish, I can assure you. I worry about you too, but please don't blame yourself for things out of your control."

"I'll try."

…

The first passengers were beginning to climb up the rope ladder thrown down to them, some struggling more than others due to the frostbite in their hands and feet. Érzsebét tried to quell the shaking in her arms and legs as she awaited her turn.

This was it. This was where she'd finally be reunited with her family.

…

"I've got it!" Érzsebét burst into her house, running over to Franz- who was playing quietly by the fire- and lifting him up, spinning around and around as she shouted 'I've got it!' over and over. The child squealed in delight as he was thrown lightly in the air only to be caught again by his mother's strong arms.

"Got what?" Roderich sat up in the bed, peering over hopefully, "a job?"

"Not quite," Érzsebét admitted, sitting down next to him, "but I have an idea for something better."

"Go on," Roderich's lips twitched upwards.

"America!" Érzsebét grinned widely at them both.

"I'm sorry?"

"We go to America!"

Roderich gaped at her, mouth open and eyes wide. Even Franz was staring at Érzsebét in confusion.

"I'm not sure I fully understand."

"Look," Érzsebét rolled her eyes, "what exactly is left for us in Austria-Hungary? No jobs, no hope, no future! Bad things are coming and I can feel it. I hear stories of wars in the Balkans, just on our doorstep, and people say war will be starting here soon. I don't want to be around when the fighting starts. I want you both safe and far away from danger!"

"You can't always believe idle gossip."

"It's not just that. If we moved to America, we'd have so many more opportunities than we do now. Franz could go to school and learn to read and write! The first one in the family! I could find a better-paying job. We might even be able to get you a doctor."

"But, America? It's so far away!"

"We can get a ship from France," Érzsebét grinned, "I've asked around and they have ships that leave from Cherbourg to New York, and Halifax in Canada. Imagine it! New York!"

"The journey would kill me!" Roderich clutched his blankets, trying to keep his breathing at a normal pace. He was terrified of doing something to upset his heart, which had been acting odd far more frequently than normal. Sometimes it beat so fast it almost hurt, even when he was lying in bed doing nothing.

"It won't, I promise," Érzsebét looked down thoughtfully, "technology's changing. People can travel in more comfort nowadays, even people like us. No more coffin ships for our lot! Who knows, maybe a fresh start will improve your health!"

"But I can't even stand up, let alone travel halfway across Europe then across an ocean!"

"Then I'll carry you!" Érzsebét grinned; "it'll be no problem! Then we can find seats for you on the trains and coaches, and you can stay in a cabin on the ship, nice and warm and safe."

"I don't know, it sounds so risky."

"Sometimes it's worth taking a risk." Érzsebét stroked Franz's hair; "I bet in America I could find a job that pays well, even enough to buy you a wheelchair. Imagine that! We could go for family days out, all of us. We could go to parks and shops and visit friends."

"It sounds lovely," Roderich admitted, "but what about cost?"

"If we leave tomorrow," Érzsebét began slowly, "early in the morning, we'd be out of here before the landlord came to collect the rent. That would give us more money, and save us waiting around pondering it. We can pack and make plans tonight."

"People might find it odd though, a woman carrying her invalid husband around like a sack of flour."

"Not if I travelled as Boldizsár Héderváry, a young man emigrating with his sickly cousin and nephew," Érzsebét stood up, picking up an old duffle bag lying in the corner and filling it with their few possessions.

"What do you think, Franz?" Roderich turned to his son; "do you want to go to America?"

"Will I go to school there?" Franz asked hopefully.

"Of course!"

"Then yes! We must go! Oh please Vati! Please!"

Roderich sighed, though he couldn't conceal a smile; "fine, we're going to America."

…

The next morning, Érzsebét stuffed her hair under her hat, swung the duffle bag onto her shoulder, and gently lifted up Roderich, who had a thick coat and boots thrown on over his nightshirt and trousers. A knitted hat kept his head warm. Franz pulled a smaller bag of his own possessions onto his back, wrapped up in several layers of clothes, nearly every item he owned. Érzsebét looked around once more, to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything, then the trio stepped outside.

It was a chilly morning, the grass outside their cottage covered in frost and the air had an icy bite to it. The sun hadn't risen yet, the sky a faint grey colour. No one else was about. Perfect.

Érzsebét set her husband down on a nearby tree trunk and closed the front door one last time before picking him back up. Roderich was now hanging from her back, arms around her neck whilst she held him by his thighs.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked.

"Yes, thank you," he replied, letting out a laugh; "I can't believe we're doing this though!"

"Well you better believe it, or you'll get a bit of a shock when we land in New York."

From the house opposite them, a middle-aged lady emerged, catching sight of the trio making their way down the garden path and frowning in confusion.

"Morning, Mrs Csonka," Érzsebét called, and Franz gave a wave. "Just taking my poorly cousin for a walk. Be back this afternoon!"

"Morning Boldizsár," Mrs Csonka called back weakly before going back into her house, quite forgetting what she'd come out for.

"She'll tell everyone," Roderich commented, "I remember her from when I was a kid. That's woman's a right gossip."

"Best we get out of here now," Érzsebét giggled before the pair burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" asked Franz, who'd wandered ahead.

"Oh nothing," Érzsebét replied airily; "all this freedom must be getting to us, I guess."


	2. The hopes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alin- Romania
> 
> Elizabeth- Nyo England.
> 
> Tsvetan- Bulgaria
> 
> Andrei- Moldova
> 
> …
> 
> Second chapter! This chapter was actually finished quicker than expected so well done me, but then again, it is three thirty in the morning here. Given that I have an extremely busy day tomorrow, I've come to the conclusion that I'm a fucking idiot. Well done me indeed. I have to march for two hours and everything. Help!
> 
> This one's more Romania-centric, so will contain a bit of robul, along with aushun and the tiniest mentions of fruk.
> 
> I'm actually pretty proud of how this chapter turned out, to be honest.
> 
> Hope you all like this chapter too! And please say if you do.

She spoke in a sharp, but kindly voice.

Alin looked up with exhausted, haunted eyes, noticing a young woman who was busying herself with handing out cups of tea standing over him, and nodded shakily as a steaming cup was passed into his hands, blue and stiff. He tried to thank her, but no words came out. She wouldn't have understood him anyway; the lady clearly wasn't Romanian. Her accent seemed English, actually.

He was sat huddled in the corner of a crowded corridor, blanket draped over his shoulders as he watched the nearby commotion like a hawk, and hadn't moved in the hour since he himself had climbed onto the ship. He saw every passenger that climbed up the rope ladder through the doors open at the side of the ship, heart stopping at every child brought up in a mail bag. But none of them were the two people he was looking for.

The young woman spoke more and knelt down next to him, rubbing his shoulder and he gave a weak smile, not understanding what she was saying but finding comfort in the soothing tone of her voice. She tried to pull him up, but Alin shook his head vigorously. He couldn't move! Not until the last boat had been emptied. Not until his last hope had been squashed.

But how could he explain that?

"My family," he finally choked out in his own language, pulling his hand out of the lady's grasp; "I need to find my family."

The words themselves were unknown to this lady, but she seemed to get the general idea. She spoke again as she nodded, and Alin thought he caught her name: Elizabeth Bonnefoy. Elizabeth, huh? Another name was mentioned, someone called Francis.

Alin blinked, tilting his head slightly. Elizabeth sighed. She said something else, gave another smile, and walked away.

Alin watched her go, and wished he could call her back and ask her to stay with him while he waited. Ask her to hold his hand. Ask her to let him cry on her shoulder.

Not that they'd be able to communicate, and she was probably busy helping other people too. Besides, he needed to focus on finding his family.

With that thought in mind, he turned back to his so-far-fruitless vigil.

…

 _9_ _th_ _April, 1912_

…

The two lovers danced wildly, neither having a clue what to do and just going with what felt right. Alin span Tsvetan, almost knocking him into the wall when the other man nearly tripped over his own feet, laughing heartily as he twirled. Their boots clattered over the wooden floor of their room, unheard by the people drinking noisily downstairs. Out in the street, a lively band played on the pavement outside the tavern, their sounds floating though the open window and inspiring the couple's sloppy dancing.

"Woah, careful there!" Tsvetan yelped as Alin dipped him.

"Sorry," he lied, "I got a bit carried away there."

"I can tell," his partner replied weakly before he was pulled back up, staggering slightly as Alin took hold of his hands once more, leading him around the room, accidentally stepping on the other's toes more than a few times. Alin's long, lanky limbs moved awkwardly, struggling to keep up with the slightly taller man. Tsvetan just laughed.

"Shush!" cried a tiny voice from the bed. The couple halted, turning to the toddler kneeling in front of the open window and glaring at them crossly.

"Aw Andrei, is your big brother being embarrassing again?" Tsvetan joked.

"Hey!"

"No, you're disturbing the boats!" Andrei turned back to the window, resting his arms on the wooden sill and gazing dreamily at the bay in the distance, where hulking ships, tenders, sailboats and fishing trawlers sailed in and out of Cherbourg.

"Oh we are, are we?" Alin raised an eyebrow, sitting on the bed next to his brother and ruffling his hair.

"Yes," he growled, sitting up to see the boats better. "Which one is ours?"

"Well," began Tsvetan, joining them, "our ship is still in England."

"England?"

"Yes," Tsvetan pointed out past the bay, "it's on the other side of that water. Far away. Well, not as far as America."

"Wow Uncle Tsvet! You're so smart!" Andrei stood up to try and see England.

"I'm not _that_ smart," Tsvetan laughed; "in fact, I can be a bit of an idiot sometimes."

"I've noticed," Alin spoke up slyly, placing a quick kiss on his partner's cheek; "is that why you fell for me?"

"Possibly."

"I can't believe it though," Alin began breathlessly, also staring out of the window, "we're starting our new life tomorrow! I've never been on a ship before, and now suddenly I'm going on the biggest one in the world with the two people I love."

"Things certainly seem to be looking up for us," Tsvetan agreed.

"What's America like?" Andrei asked, turning round and snuggling up to Alin.

"Don't know," his brother replied, "big, I guess. Modern too, hopefully. But the important thing is that there's lots of work there!"

"Work?"

"Yes! To get more money and have a better life," Alin pulled Andrei onto his lap hugging the three year old tightly, "then you can be whatever you want to be. It wouldn't matter there."

"I want to be a boat!"

Tsvetan smothered a giggle, and Alin just sighed.

"Whatever you want to be…"

…

"It's beautiful," Roderich whispered for the fifth time as he stared at the raggle-taggle band sat in the street, playing on old, second-hand instruments to the crowd gathered outside the tavern. Some couples even danced in the empty road, and Roderich swore he could see more people dancing in one of the second-storey windows above the tavern. Next to him, Érzsebét nodded, placing her hand on his and leaning closer.

The couple were sat on the curb in the fading, evening light, taking in the joyful atmosphere in peaceful silence. Franz was curled up asleep in his mother's lap, sucking his thumb and exhausted from a day spent exploring the bay with Érzsebét. He'd been fascinated by the many different shapes and colours of the boats, watching in awe as sails were raised and steam puffed out of funnels. Franz tugged at Érzsebét's trousers in excitement at seeing his first cruise liner- a hulking grey monster sat in the docks- and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets upon hearing that their own ship would be even bigger, so big, in fact, that it couldn't even fit in the docks and the passengers would have to be brought to it in two tenders.

Érzsebét was wearing a dress now, a homemade, olive green affair that fitted poorly, but she still loved it, especially the flowers embroidered into the skirt and bodice. She didn't know why, but she felt like dressing as a woman for their last night in Europe. Tomorrow, Érzsebét would be back in her waistcoat and trousers, but for now all she wanted was to sit with Roderich as husband and wife, not hiding behind disguises.

"Have you honestly never heard music before?" she asked.

"I did as a child, and loved folk dances, but it seems I've forgotten the effect music has on me." He stared tearfully at the instruments; "I would love to play for myself." Such an opportunity was far out of Roderich's reach, but the wistful look on his face told Érzsebét not to kill his dreams with reality.

"Maybe in America, you can," she suggested.

"Maybe," he gave a small smile, "or at least be able to listen to all the different kinds of music they have there."

"If I'd have known it would have such an effect on you, I would have sung more for you back home."

"But you hate singing," Roderich frowned.

"Wouldn't have stopped me from trying." Érzsebét rested her head on Roderich's shoulder, snaking an arm around his waist to keep him upright. Even he had dressed up for the occasion, wearing some of Érzsebét's clothes under his coat, which he would also be wearing the next day as they boarded the Titanic.

"Thank you," Roderich whispered, starting to hum along to the music. One of the onlookers spotted them, waving cheerily and jogging over.

"Join us, you two!" he called, "come and dance with us!"

Over the few weeks they'd been travelling across France, the couple had picked up enough French to get by, so Érzsebét felt confident in declining his request, no matter how much she knew Roderich would've wanted to.

"Our child is tired and so are we," she stated; "we want to just sit."

"Of course, miss," the stranger nodded, running to join his friends.

After a moment's silence, Roderich spoke up again.

"I don't want you to go to America as my cousin Boldizsár," he began, "I want you to go as my wife, Érzsebét."

"How come?" Érzsebét looked at him curiously.

"Well, at least then we can be openly affectionate, and I can proudly say I am married to you, which is something I've always wanted to do, I must confess."

"Yes it would be nice, in that sense."

"Plus, they give you health checks at immigration," Roderich continued, "so you might be found out, and turned away. And even if you got away with it, you'd have to be a man for the rest of your life, because it would say so on all your papers."

"What if it's like home, and I can only get a job as a man?"

"I don't think it would be that way," Roderich frowned in thought, "New York is a big city, yes? There will be a wider selection of jobs to choose from."

"It would be easier to explain," Érzsebét admitted, "than why I'm living with another man and not out with girls. And we can both say we're Franz's parents;" she chuckled, "fine, I'll be a woman again! I quite miss it, actually."

Across the street, the band began packing their instruments, and the couple took it as a sign to head back to their lodgings, the sun long having set. Érzsebét wrapped Roderich's arm around her shoulder, hoisting him up with one arm whilst holding Franz in the other. Roderich gingerly took a step forward, though it made little difference. Had Érzsebét not been holding him, his legs would've collapsed under him.

"So, Mr Edelstein," she began; "are you excited about tomorrow?"

"With all my being."

…

_The following evening_

…

"Don't go too close to the edge," Alin warned as Andrei slipped through people's legs and wandered over to the railings, peering out in the evening gloom at the ship in the distance. The child's mouth formed an 'o' shape as he stared in awe at the Titanic's monstrous form, thousands of lights twinkling over the sea, and Andrei thought the sight was absolutely magical.

"He's fine," Tsvetan told him, watching as Andrei wrapped his tiny fingers around the metal bars, jumping up and down excitedly. "In fact," he added, stepping forward, "I might just join him."

Alin shrugged, deciding to follow his partner and brother.

…

Now it was the turn of Lifeboat 12 to be relieved of her passengers. Alin clutched the sides of his blankets, not daring to breathe as the first sorry figure climbed aboard.

Not Tsvetan.

They weren't even using the mailbag for this boat. But there was still at least two children unaccounted for! Maybe they were waiting until the boat was emptier before using it. More and more men climbed the ladder, a mixture of passengers and crew, all frozen and haunted and not saying a word. Time and time again, Alin felt his hopes rise only to be dashed by an unfamiliar face.

Until…

"It can't be," Alin narrowed his eyes as a familiar mop of brown hair fell onto the deck, one of the last to climb onto the rescue ship. The figure was soon wrapped in a blanket, ignoring all other offers of help, just kneeling slumped on the floor.

Alin found himself standing slowly and shakily, heart pounding as he walked towards them and pushed through the crowd.

"You!" he cried, shaking his head in horror before pulling the figure into a tight hug. "Of all people to survive, it had to be you!" Nevertheless, he held Érzsebét close, sobbing onto her shoulder, though he was certain that was simply from his own grief.

They were gone. There was no doubt about it now. Tsvetan and Andrei hadn't made it, and he'd never see them again. The realisation, after hours of denial, was like a rope wrapped around his torso, pulled ever tighter until it threatened to crush him completely. He couldn't handle it. This wasn't how things were supposed to be! They were supposed to start a new life together and be happy!

"Well there's no need to look so sad to see me," Érzsebét grabbed his shoulders, pulling him away, "though I'm not too pleased at yours being the first face I find on here." She pulled herself up, glaring down at him. "What about the others? Where are they?"

"Gone," Alin whispered, still sobbing on the floor.

"Oh don't talk such nonsense," Érzsebét snapped as she scanned the crowds for her husband and child; "they've got to be here somewhere."

"They're not," Alin stood up, grabbing her sleeve; "I've been watching the lifeboats ever since I got here and neither my family nor yours were among the rescued."

"And how long have you been here?" Érzsebét shot him a glare, yanking her sleeve away and pretending to wipe dirt off the spot Alin touched.

"An hour or so."

"Then you wouldn't have seen everyone, right?"

"But they'd have been here," Alin pressed; "they'd be waiting for us!"

"Maybe they needed urgent medical attention and were taken inside. I know Roderich would, and Franz is so small. They would need to see a doctor right away! Your little boy would too."

"Tsvetan would wait for me," Alin muttered, "he'd be right here waiting."

"Then they're still in the lifeboats," Érzsebét waved her arms above her head, storming over to the side of the ship; "we'll just have to wait for the other passengers to come aboard."

"Érzi," Alin began softly, the kindness and downright pity in his voice catching the other off-guard; "you do know your boat was the last to be emptied, right? There are no more lifeboats. Face it, they're gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, aren't I bad?
> 
> It was really fun combining the happy, family elements with the crushing sadness; made the sadness even worse to read, am I right?


	3. The denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter's up, not much to say except it's a sadfest, again.
> 
> Sorry it took a while though, but I'm extremely sensitive about getting everything right, thus took ages to research as much as I could about the third class facilities to make it as accurate as possible. I now know that the toilets in each class on the Titanic were made out of a different material and what those materials are.

"You're lying," Érzsebét whispered as she pushed Alin away after the latter attempted to wrap his arms around her. She didn't want his pity.

"Take a look for yourself," he replied with a shrug, gesturing towards the loading bay, where the ladder was now being pulled up and as the crew prepared to close the doors.

"You're lying," she repeated, louder this time; "you're a dirty liar!"

"Enough of the denial," Alin rolled his eyes; "take a look around you. They're gone! And, given who we're talking about here, were you honestly expecting it to be any other way?"

Érzsebét would've strangled him there and then, had another figure not stepped in front of her, and she found herself staring at one of the Carpathia's crew members, holding a clipboard.

"Name?" he asked, and Érzsebét blinked, not understanding.

"He wants your name," Alin told her, and Érzsebét gave her full name to the crewmember. She tried to peer at his clipboard, to see if Roderich or Franz Edelstein was on his list, but the man quickly moved on to another survivor. Another blanket was wrapped around her shoulders, and Érzsebét turned to thank whom she assumed to be one of the Carpathia's passengers, but found herself looking at Alin.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she croaked warily.

"It's not like I have a choice," Alin told her; "I'm not particularly fond of you, but you're all I have left. Besides, how could I even attempt to be hostile to you when I know exactly what you're going through?"

"How could you possibly even understand-" Érzsebét stopped herself, knowing she didn't have enough cruelty in her to even finish that sentence, "of course, and I'm so sorry."

"Look, let's just go and find a doctor. My legs feel really odd and I'm sure you need medical attention too."

Érzsebét paused, staring at the other before eventually sighing.

"Fine."

…

 _10_ _th_ _April, 1912_

…

"Are you settled comfortably?" Érzsebét asked yet again, fussing over Roderich as he lay on his bunk, wrapped under several blankets, most taken from his old bed and thoughtfully packed by Érzsebét. He was back in his nightshirt, freshly cleaned after Érzsebét's trip to the washroom. Both he and Franz had also had a bath for the first time, Érzsebét dragging them to the communal bathroom before most of the other passengers had finished packing, which was lucky because- there being only two baths for all 700-odd steerage passengers- there was soon quite a queue. As the men and women bathed separately, Érzsebét had donned her male disguise in order to be allowed in with them, since nether Roderich or Franz could bathe themselves.

"I'm perfectly well, thank you," he smiled as she ran a hand through his hair, now cleaned, shining and back to its original deep brown, which she had never really seen before. Érzsebét sat next to his bunk for a few minutes more, stroking his hair whilst he began to doze off, then she turned back to her son.

Franz was also asleep, wrapped up in his own bunk. His hair was splayed across the pillow and he had the tiniest smile on his face. For once, he wasn't hungry.

The trio had eaten tea in one of the dining saloons on Deck F with hundreds of other steerage passengers packed into wooden benches. When Érzsebét saw the dinner they were being served, her eyes nearly popped out of her skull. Her plate was filled with pie, potatoes and bread as well as butter and jam on the side. She turned to Roderich, whose mouth was wide open as he stared down at a similar plate, glasses halfway down his nose. She pushed them up with a finger, and he turned his head as much as he could to face her.

"Am I dreaming?" he gasped out. Between them, Franz poked at his pie slice.

"If you are, then we must be sharing a wonderful dream," Érzsebét replied, though the warmth of the food and those around her told her this was all real.

"Is this all for me?" Franz asked, stroking the edge of the plate with a finger.

"Of course sweetie!" Érzsebét told him, and the child took it as a sign to tuck in. He didn't bother with his knife and fork, breaking off pieces of pastry with his hands and popping them in his mouth before starting on the bread. This caused several others at their table to chuckle, although they themselves were astounded by the food as well.

"How cute," cooed one lady, sat opposite them.

Érzsebét herself ate a few mouthfuls of pie before helping Roderich with his meal. She fed him a few forkfuls of pie and potatoes before bringing a slice of bread up to his mouth to take a bite out of. They ignored the curious stares of other passengers.

"Can we live on this boat?" asked Franz through a mouthful of potatoes. Érzsebét wiped his hands, which were also covered in potato, before pressing a fork into his hand and answering.

"I'm afraid we'll only be here for a week or so." Franz's face fell, and his mother sighed. "But we'll be living somewhere even better when we land! We can find a nice flat in New York and eat all kinds of food."

"Wow," Franz stabbed a cube of rabbit meat sat in the remains of the pie pastry and tore a chunk from it. "And I can go to school too?"

"Of course!" Érzsebét sighed dreamily as she fed potatoes to Roderich; "you can be around children your own age and learn so much. Then you can come home and tell us everything you've learnt."

"What if the other children don't like me?" Franz paused, setting his fork down; "what if they think I'm weird?"

"It doesn't matter," replied Roderich, "there will be people who like you for your weirdness. Just stick with them."

...

Érzsebét could still taste the jam in her mouth as she sat on her cabin floor. Rhubarb. Her new favourite.

She looked around at the cabin. There were six beds in total, two occupied by her boys, one- the bunk above Roderich- containing her bag, and the three loaded with luggage from their mystery roommates. They had yet to see the people they were sharing a cabin with, who were probably off exploring, and Érzsebét was more than a little curious about them.

She couldn't blame these strangers though, since the ship was so huge and full of so many things she'd never even dreamed of. Érzsebét decided that tomorrow she'd go off exploring too, bringing Franz along, probably. She loved the idea of standing on deck in the fresh air, and if she went there in the morning, she could even catch a glimpse of Ireland as the ship stopped at Queenstown.

The third class library was another particular place of interest, even though she and Roderich couldn't read and write in their own languages, let alone English. But Érzsebét had never been in a library before, and just wanted to be around books, to smell and touch them, even if she couldn't read them.

Their cabin was neat and cosy, the six bunks taking up most of the space and a tiny washbasin and wardrobe making up the rest of the furnishings. The carpet was soft and there were electric lights fitted in the room, something Érzsebét thought she would never be fortunate enough to see for herself. It truly was a place of luxury, and she wouldn't have minded if they never left the ship again.

It was then that the door opened and two men entered, taking extra care to be quiet once they saw Roderich and Franz. One was carrying a small child of his own, wrapped in a coat too big for him and asleep, head resting on the adult's shoulder so all Érzsebét could see of him was a mop of dark hair.

"You must be our cabin mates then," the young man carrying the child began in French, deciding that- since they'd all boarded at Cherbourg- that was their best means of communication, "nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet-" Érzsebét stopped, frowning at his accent.

"Oh, I'm Mr Radacanu, or Alin, if you prefer, and this is my, err, companion, Mr Borisov."

"Call me Tsvetan," the taller one replied, making his way over to one of the empty bunks. Alin followed him, tucking his child into the bunk above Franz.

"And this is Andrei, my little brother," he replied, staring at the infant lovingly, stroking his long hair as he slept.

"My name is Érzsebét," she glared at the man icily.

"A Hungarian?" Alin hissed, throwing an arm protectively over Andrei.

"Romanian," Érzsebét narrowed her eyes, wondering if snatching Franz away would be overreacting.

"Calm down, you two," Tsvetan said, swinging his legs over the side of his bunk and glancing over at the duo warily.

"I'm perfectly calm," Alin replied innocently.

"Good, well, we're going to be stuck together for the duration of the crossing, so please try to get along." Tsvetan pulled off his hat and waistcoat, folding them in a pile at the end of his bed before kicking his boots off.

"We'll see."

"No offense," Érzsebét began, "but why are you in our cabin?"

"Offense taken," replied Alin coldly, "and it's our cabin too."

"I mean, what are you- two single men- doing sharing a cabin with a family? Shouldn't you be in a cabin with the other men?"

There was a pause before anyone spoke.

"Not with Andrei," Alin began slowly, glancing back at his travelling companion, "me and him are technically a family group. And since Tsvetan is travelling with me, we were all put in a room with another family."

"I see. Fine," Érzsebét picked up her folded nightdress, and stood up; "I'm going to have a bath."

"That's an image I didn't want to see," Alin muttered, taking off his hat and running a hand through his scruffy hair. She caught him glaring at her as his face twisted into a snarl, revealing a pointed fang.

"Hmph," Érzsebét paused at the door, glancing at the sleeping forms of her family with worry.

"I'm not going to do anything to them!" Alin rolled his eyes, jumping into his own bunk; "I'm going to sleep anyways."

After a few moments deliberating, Érzsebét nodded and walked out, switching off the lights as she did so.

…

Érzsebét allowed Alin to lead as they walked towards one of the first aid stations. When Alin had asked some of the other survivors where he could get medical help, they pointed him in the general direction of the third class dining room, and Érzsebét just quietly went along with it.

Alin, indeed, appeared to be having trouble with his feet. He limped along the corridors, wrapped in a new blanket and still shivering, for some reason having discarded his lifebelt hours ago. Érzsebét herself was drinking coffee passed to her by a sympathetic passenger, but had refused other forms of aid. She clutched at her own lifebelt like she still depended on it.

She was still refusing to believe Roderich and Franz were dead. They had to be on here somewhere! The Carpathia was a big ship, not as big as Titanic, but still large enough for them to be anywhere. Someone would've helped them onto a lifeboat. No one would've left a dangerously ill man and small child in the water to fend for themselves.

Right?

"Wait!" she called. Alin stopped, rolling his eyes as he turned.

"What now?"

"We still have to look for them!" she jogged over to him, grabbing his shoulders, "we have to search the entire ship! They're on here, I can feel it!"

…

_12th April, 1912_

…

"Does the rest of your family know you married an Austrian?" Alin commented airily, "and a crippled one at that."

"Don't call him that," Érzsebét hissed, storming ahead, "and if you must know, they don't, but it doesn't matter because now because they'll never find out."

The pair were walking down one of the corridors back to their cabin, after having the misfortune to bump into each other in the General Room and being forced to be in each other's presence as Andrei and Franz played together. Their two children were lagging behind now, talking and giggling, even though they couldn't understand each other. They got along swimmingly, much to the horror of the two guardians, Franz having taken the younger boy under his wing.

"What about you?" Érzsebét replied smugly; "does the rest of your family know you're a homosexual?"

Alin paused, staring at the other in horror. "Tsvetan is my friend, that's all," he whispered.

"Who said anything about Tsvetan?" Érzsebét's smile grew wider at his obvious distress; "I was just talking about yourself. You're the one who brought him into this."

"Shut up!"

"So he's your… partner? I'm not sure what you call it. Partner, yes?"

"No!" Alin lunged forward, covering Érzsebét's mouth with a hand. She quickly ripped his arm away, caught between wanting to laugh victoriously and wipe her mouth in disgust. She did both.

Alin was trembling now, gripping the wall for support. The two children had caught up by then, staring at the adults in confusion but not intruding on their conversation. They had both been brought up to be polite to adults.

"You're a liar!" she sang, "a dirty liar!"

"Please," he whispered, "don't tell-"

"Why would I tell anyone?" Érzsebét raised an eyebrow, "that would just cause unneeded trouble for everyone. Besides, our children get along, and so do my husband and… Borisov. This is the first time both of them have made friends outside the family so, in a sense, I'm grateful. Not grateful for you though."

"I could tell."

"I'll keep your secret though."

Alin paused, pulling a face before forcing out a 'thank you'. Érzsebét just grinned as she continued walking.

"You two go well together," she commented, "in that you're both very annoying and stupid." Andrei looked up in horror before bursting into tears, realising whom she was talking about.

"You're mean!" he cried, rushing to the defence of his two parental figures.

"No, no, child, shush," she cooed, bending down to ruffle his hair, "I'm sorry."

"Get off him!" Alin picked his brother up and stormed off. Érzsebét rolled her eyes, taking Franz's hand and following.

"I said I was sorry!" she growled as she levelled with them.

"Apology not accepted," Alin grinned wickedly, "get on your knees and beg for Andrei's forgiveness!"

"His forgiveness doesn't mean that much to me, in all honesty."

"Oy!" Alin yanked at a lock of her hair, and Franz in turn kicked his ankle.

"Stop!" cried Andrei, close to tears again, and the trio ceased their fighting. Érzsebét couldn't help but feel more than a little disappointed; she'd been prepared to punch Alin right in the jaw.

As they neared their cabin, Érzsebét heard voices coming through the open door and stopped, holding an arm in front of Alin.

"Hey, what?!" he snapped before she shushed him. Érzsebét moved closer, curious, and found the two voices belonged to Borisov and her husband.

"I've heard of cases like yours before, but I'm afraid I have never personally met anyone with a similar illness," Tsvetan was saying, and Érzsebét remembered him mentioning the previous day that he was a doctor. Of course Roderich would want to take advantage of his knowledge...

"Well, can you tell me what you know, at least?" Roderich replied, and even from where she was, Érzsebét could hear the hope and desperation in his voice.

"Of course," Tsvetan paused before beginning; "it seems you have some form of muscle dysthrophy. I'm afraid there's little known about it, other than it primarily affects boys and progressively weakens the muscles. Even your particular condition is unlike many of the others I've read about. Your condition sounds a lot like Duchenne's variation, but if that was the case then you'd be nearly paralysed by now. Dead, even."

"So, thankfully, it's not that."

"Indeed," Tsvetan thought for a moment, "it appears the condition hasn't affected your brain development; that's always a possibility with this. You seem well-spoken and intelligent enough."

"For someone who is illiterate?"

"Yes. And well done for keeping up with your sewing, it's slowed down the progress of the disease in your arms, but I fear a life of bed-rest has done you no favours."

"I didn't exactly have a choice."

"I know," Tsvetan chuckled, "if only we could access the ship's pool. That might help somewhat."

"I cannot swim either."

"I'm sure either myself or Alin could teach you. But the pool isn't an option so it doesn't matter." He paused again. "Would you mind if I had a quick look at your torso?" Érzsebét tensed, and next to her, she heard Alin tut.

"He's asking as a professional," he hissed.

"Just as I thought," they heard Tsvetan begin, "you have developed scoliosis as well."

"Is that bad?"

"Well, it's not ideal, never is, but comes with the territory. As your muscles weaken, and you become less mobile, your bones cannot develop properly."

"So scoliosis is…"

"A curvature of the spine. Though yours is mild compared to some I've seen. Look at how your ribs and pelvis are more prominent on one side. That's how you know."

"But why do I have all this? Did I do something wrong?"

"Not at all! From what we know, Muscular Dystrophy passed on from parent to child. It seems only the men in the family are affected though, with the women being carriers. Though once in a blue moon you see a girl with this illness, but that happens nearly never."

"So there's a chance that Franz can develop it too?"

"He's already showing symptoms."

Érzsebét gasped, clutching her son closer to her, but the boy wasn't listening to the conversation. He couldn't understand them anyway.

"No," Roderich whispered, "it can't… he… there must be a cure!"

"There isn't, I'm afraid. The process can be slowed though."

"How?"

"Keep him active. Make sure he runs around like other little boys and doesn't spend his life in bed. Give him something for his hands to do. Don't treat him like he's delicate, if you understand. Teach him how to swim too, it's good for the body and heart."

"Thank you, Tsvetan. You're a smart man."

"Hey, it was my destiny to be a doctor. I've wanted to be one since I was a small boy, back in Bulgaria."

"Why did you leave there, if you don't mind me asking?"

"There was a war and lots of people were being killed, so I ran."

"Surely, as a doctor, it would've been better to stay and help the wounded, right? Why didn't you?"

"Because I was two and my father was shot protecting me and my little sister," Tsvetan replied bitterly, "so my mother took us and fled to Russia."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I truly didn't mean-"

"It's fine. You didn't know." There was a pause before either spoke.

"So you didn't like Russia then?"

"It was a nice enough place, but a little cold. The fighting started there too so I left for France, met Alin and Andrei, and the three of us decided to try our luck in America."

"Do you think you'll ever return to Bulgaria?"

"I'd like to. My mother told me it is a beautiful place. And yourself? Would you go back to Austria?"

"I'm afraid I won't have any choice but to die in America." Tsvetan, to Érzsebét's horror, didn't argue with that.

…

"Érzsebét, please, I want to go to the first aid station!" Alin gave an exhausted sob.

"Don't you care about your family?" Érzsebét glared at him, "we have to find them first!"

"They're not here! Look, I've understood that they're gone, and I'm hurting and trying to come to terms with it. Don't get my hopes up again just to dash them! My heart can't take it anymore. It's already shattered... broken beyond repair..." His eyes brimmed with tears, and he swayed dangerously, but Érzsebét was undeterred.

"Come on, please! Just do this for me;" she stood back and sighed. "Imagine when we find them. Will it not be the most beautiful moment in your life?"

"They're not-"

"My love and yours, and our children are on this ship somewhere, I just know it!"

Alin paused, breathing heavily as his face crumpled.

"Fine," he spat, "one last try."

…

_13 April, 1912_

…

Érzsebét made sure she and Roderich were sitting comfortably in the corner of the General Room, away from the crowds that danced to guitars, violins and even a set of bagpipes. There was no common language amongst the steerage passengers, but they were united by the sounds that entranced them.

Couples danced together whilst others sat on the wooden benches and clapped, and children ran about chasing each other. Franz and Andrei too. At one point, Franz had tripped over his own feet, and burst into tears after hitting the ground. Érzsebét had dashed over and scooped him up, kissing his knee better and telling him he was a brave boy, but soon sent him off again, Tsvetan's advice fresh in her mind.

The man himself was dancing with Alin, their pair keeping far enough apart to not arouse suspicion. No one paid them much attention anyways.

Now, Érzsebét was back by her husband's side, watching as he put all his energy into clapping along with the musicians, improvised and messy, but capturing his full attention nonetheless. The reflections of the steerage passengers danced across his eyes, and he sat mesmerised by the music, lively and fun. Beside him, Érzsebét clapped along joyfully, swaying to the sounds.

"Maybe we can teach Franz an instrument," she suggested, speaking up over the din.

"I'm sure he wouldn't object," Roderich replied, "the boy likes to be busy."

"Be good for his arms too," Érzsebét commented, and her husband stiffened.

"You're right," he forced a smile.

"You're feeling guilty, aren't you?" Érzsebét sighed; "look, these things are out of your control. At least this time round we know in advance and can help him together."

"We can't cure him though," Roderich stopped clapping, resting his hands on his knees, "or even give him proper help."

"Tsvetan wouldn't mind helping out; I'm sure he'd be glad to work with Franz. He'll probably write about him too, and use that writing to help even more people."

"But Franz will still get worse. In a few years he won't be able to walk!"

"And we won't love him any less!"

"That's not what I meant! He won't have any quality of life. He'll be wheelchair-bound and probably die early. And the stigma… no one will want anything to do with him."

"We will!" Érzsebét glared at him fiercely, eyes blazing, "and so will his friends. You underestimate people, Edelstein. There will be people who want to associate themselves with Franz because he is intelligent and an interesting person! He's a people person too. Look how that little Romanian kid has taken to him! I like to think he and Franz will be lifelong friends."

"Of course," Roderich sighed in relief, "I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright. Now, why don't we enjoy the music some more?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's about it for now.
> 
> Yes, all three classes on the Titanic had their own libraries! As well as that, third class passengers had a general room and a smoking room to entertain themselves in, which was extremely luxurious compared to third class facilities on other cruise liners back then. Heck, even them getting served meals was a pretty new thing, as they would usually have to take their own food. They could've added more baths though. Then again, back then people thought having too many baths damaged the lungs.
> 
> So the particular type of Muscular Dystrophy Roderich has (Emery-Dreifuss, to refresh your memories) wasn't identified as such until the early 1960s, (though it was first recorded in the early 20th century) and was at first believed to be a milder form of Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy, which is the most severe type. People with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy usually die in childhood or adolescence.
> 
> Scoliosis is usually a side-effect of Muscular Dystrophy, and as someone with scoliosis, I couldn't resist writing about it. I never can, sorry.
> 
> Um, I have to admit I took some artistic licence with this chapter, in that third class cabins didn't usually contain more than one family. Each family would've had their own cabin, and single men would share cabins with other single men, same with single women. So sorry for that.
> 
> Oh, and the first class toilets were made out of marble, the second class ones out of porcelain and the third class ones out of iron, for those who were curious, and for those who weren't.


	4. Untreated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy reading this chapter everyone. Or not, given its contents. It was actually a struggle to start this, because I was scared I hadn't read enough, and didn't have enough knowledge of the event etc.
> 
> Just want to take a moment to thank everyone and anyone who's taken an interest in this story. I don't think I've written something that's been this instantly… popular. I guess it's a popular pairing but I've written popular pairings before and not got this much attention. I'm extremely flattered. Thank you all.
> 
> Also thank you to Chocolateturnip, who half-knew what would happen and still put herself through the torture of reading it!
> 
> Warning for medical emergencies in this chapter.

_9:30 am_

…

The interior of the Carpathia was nothing compared to the huge, hulking maze that was the Titanic's many different decks, winding corridors and various rooms, yet Érzsebét realised with dread that her search could take hours. Days, even. If needed, she would search every room until she found them, and ask everyone she saw. She would not rest until she found them again, and they were safe in her arms. She would promise Roderich that she'd never let him go again and Franz that she was so sorry for not protecting him like she should've. She would wrap them up and find a nice corner where they could huddle together until they got to New York, then stumble into a new city and a new life.

If only Alin would keep quiet long enough to let her think.

He was hobbling behind her, leaning heavily against the wall and sobbing noisily, not one shred of decorum about him. A few passengers and crew stopped, some asking if he needed help, others attempting to drag him to the first aid station, but he turned down each offer, shaking his head furiously, mumbling in Romanian that they need to leave him alone before stumbling to catch up with his companion.

"Try to keep up," she hissed, marching down another flight of stairs.

…

_14 April, 1912_

…

"I thought you sung lovely at the service today," Roderich commented as Érzsebét placed him, carefully, back in his bunk, pulling the blankets over him and patting them down gently. She stroked his cheek with a thumb whilst Franz and Andrei played on the floor with toys sewn out of rags. Alin lay on his bunk, singing quietly to himself.

"Thank you," Érzsebét looked away, face flushed and smiling slightly.

"Tsvetan sings better. Better than anyone, really." Alin glanced over at them, lips pulled into a grin that revealed his pointed teeth.

"I'd like to hear him sometime," Roderich replied, and Érzsebét scowled.

"He's probably not _that_ great."

"His voice is the most beautiful sound you will ever hear," Alin rolled onto his side, staring at them earnestly.

"Careful there," Érzsebét replied with a hint of smugness, "anyone would think you have feelings for him."

"I just know how to appreciate a good thing," Alin growled.

"I wager you do."

Tsvetan chose that particular moment to enter, cheerful humming dying in his throat as he stared from Alin's angry, flushed face to Érzsebét's haughty, self-satisfied one to Roderich's bewildered one.

"What an awkward silence," he commented; "this wouldn't be for my benefit, would it?"

"Not at all," replied Alin, a little too quickly. The silence that followed was crushing.

"So, Alin tells me you have a gift," began Roderich in an attempt to break it.

"Oh yes?" Tsvetan made his way to the washbasin.

"Yes. He tells me you are an excellent singer."

"That I am. I'll have to show you sometime." He began washing his face.

"Why weren't you at the service this morning?" asked Alin, "Andrei missed you."

The child in question looked up at the mention of his name, toddling over to Tsvetan, who picked him up and held him close.

"Sorry, little one," he murmured, "I was busy."

"Too busy for church?" Alin raised his eyebrows before jokingly singing: "you're going to hell!"

Tsvetan tensed, glaring at the other. "Don't say that," he hissed.

Alin's smile fell, and he frowned slightly. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

"I know. Look, how about the three of us take a walk on the deck?" He tried to smile, but the forced expression unnerved his partner.

"Now?" Alin raised an eyebrow, "isn't it a bit cold?"

"Then put on a coat," he replied through gritted teeth.

"Right," Alin picked up his and Andrei's coats, following the other two out of the room.

"Sorry about that," Tsvetan sighed once they were in the corridor, walking past groups standing around and talking like it was a street in a crowded city; "I just got a bit nervous, being in that small room. I thought it would be nice for the three of us to spend some time together. Alone."

"I like the sound of that."

Roderich, meanwhile, was beginning to feel unwell. He felt half his body go numb as a hot flush washed over him. It lasted for a few minutes only, and in that time, Érzsebét didn't notice, too preoccupied with trying to find Franz's missing sock.

When she turned back to him and smiled, he gave a faint smile back, but decided it was best not to say anything for the moment.

…

"Where are they?" Érzsebét muttered, marching past steerage passengers and peering in every open door she could find. She was getting frustrated now. Where they hell were they staying?

"Looking for someone, dear?"

Érzsebét turned to find an old woman staring at her curiously, wrapped in a worn shawl with a lined, greying face, but what had shocked Érzsebét most was that she was speaking Hungarian.

"Yes," she cried, "I'm looking for four people, two men and two small children, all in third class. I think they may have been picked up by one of the lifeboats." Érzsebét looked at the woman's dark eyes, round and friendly, and guessed she could trust her enough to ask for her help.

"Well, the third class dining saloon is your best option," the woman replied, "that's where they're taking the passengers."

"I'll try there, thank you." Érzsebét was about to walk away when the woman grabbed her face gently, stroking her cheeks and tucking her hair behind her ears.

"You were really there?" she whispered; "you saw the ship go under?"

"Well… everything's a bit blurred," she gasped out.

"But it really happened? The Titanic really sank?"

"Yes, I'm afraid."

"And you were there?"

"Yes."

"Oh you poor, sweet child," the woman pulled her into a hug, patting her back; when Érzsebét pulled away, she saw the woman had teary eyes.

"Yes, well I have to go now," she gave a nod, "I need to find my husband and son. They're on here somewhere."

"Of course, may you find them safe and sound." But the woman had a look in her eyes: a strange, knowing, tragic one. One that told Érzsebét that the woman truly didn't believe any of the people they were looking for were still alive, and that soon she would have to accept that.

And the moment she accepted that, the grief would crush her and drag her under, like the suction of the huge ship as it disappeared into the ocean forever.

Érzsebét just turned and walked away, Alin trailing behind.

…

_11:40 pm_

…

She wasn't sure she even felt it at first.

Érzsebét had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and imagining her future when the cabin seemed to shudder, like the floor was skidding across hundreds of marbles. In the distance, there was a scraping, tearing noise and as Érzsebét tried to sit up, the shaking of her bunk caused her to fall on the floor. She cried out, just as Andrei landed on top of her with a yelp like a frightened pup, closely followed by Roderich, who landed next to her with a small shout, accidentally elbowing her in the stomach. In the distance, she could hear Alin and Tsvetan groaning, the latter letting out a lather loud stream of swear words in various languages, not seeming to remember that he was in the presence of others.

"What the hell was that?" Roderich moaned.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Érzsebét replied, sitting up and looking around blearily. Franz was the only one still in his bed, but he was sat bolt upright, face pale and eyes wide with fear. He cried softly for his Mamma.

Alin stood up slowly, grunting and pulling Tsvetan to his feet. Érzsebét turned Roderich onto his back, the man's chest heaving.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine, I think." He was trembling, eyes wide and breathing deep, and when she placed a hand on his heart, she found its beat was irregular, hard and rapid.

"What's going on?" Tsvetan bounded over to the cabin door after helping Alin up, opening it and stepping outside to find others standing in the corridors, in their nightclothes and as utterly confused as he was. He spied one family, parents carrying two sleeping children and muttering tiredly to each other in Bulgarian. He decided to join them.

"What happened?" he asked, making his way over to them.

"We don't know," replied the father, "maybe she hit another ship?"

"That's what it felt like," the mother added, "there was this weird grinding sensation, as if we ploughed into something."

"Yes I felt it too," Tsvetan scratched his chin, "felt like we'd run aground somewhere."

"I think the ship might've lost a propeller blade," commented another man, joining in on the conversation.

"Reminds me of this earthquake where I lived," added someone else, nervous and shaking, "but not as bad, thankfully!"

Tsvetan just shook his head in casual agreement; no one seemed to have any more idea than he did. He wondered if a steward would turn up with some news, and wandered further along the corridor to find one, stopping occasionally to talk to another passenger.

Unsuccessful in finding a member of the crew by the time he arrived at the end of the corridor, he returned to his cabin to find Érzsebét had lifted Roderich back into the bed and was passing Andrei over to Alin, who took the child and immediately began fussing over him.

"Well?" asked Érzsebét. Tsvetan just shrugged.

"No idea," he admitted, "could be anything. Could be nothing. Judging by how everyone's going back to their cabins, probably the latter."

"Isn't there a steward to tell us what's going on?"

"None."

"And no one's checking if something's wrong?"

"Well, a few people are going up on deck to find out."

"And I'm going back to sleep," Alin climbed back into his bunk, holding his brother close as the child was still teary and sniffing, "and I suggest you all do the same too. If it's something big, we'll know soon enough." He then began whispering soothingly in Andrei's ear to calm the child down, and he soon did, falling asleep against his older brother's chest. Alin soon followed.

Tsvetan and Érzsebét exchanged exasperated glances before climbing back into their own bunks, and Érzsebét was soon asleep again.

She didn't sleep for long, though.

Half an hour later, the noise of people moving and talking outside roused her, as did Alin's persistent poking.

"Hey get up," he growled; "we have to go up on deck."

"Why?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Ship's in trouble," he replied grimly, shaking her shoulder, "everyone's to get on lifeboats."

"What?" Érzsebét sat up, staring at him in horror. The room seemed different to her, as if it were leaning to one side, too noticeable to shrug off as sleepy disorientation.

"That's the orders," Alin shrugged, "some people on the lower decks saw water coming in. A few people woke up with it in their cabins."

"Do you think the ship will sink?" asked Érzsebét.

"Who knows," Alin shrugged, "either way, a rescue ship will come along in no time. Probably best to get to the lifeboats though. If it does go down, I want to Andrei and Tsvetan to be as far away as possible."

Érzsebét jumped down, lifting Franz out of his blankets and setting him on the floor, telling the boy to get dressed in his warmest clothes as quickly as possible, whilst Tsvetan pulled their lifebelts down from the top of the wardrobe, setting them down on Andrei's bunk. The toddler was perched next to them, blubbering as he sensed the adults' rising panic.

Érzsebét turned her attention to Roderich, and he just sighed.

"I don't think I can make it."

An icy hand gripped at Érzsebét's heart and she felt like she was being pulled into freezing water. "Don't say that," she croaked, "it's only up some stairs."

"No. I really don't feel too good right now." It was true that his health had slowly declined since they had left home, and he had been feeling particularly ill since the morning, but surely he was well enough to make the short trip to the deck? Then again, he hadn't been up for trips to the dining saloon for dinner and tea that day. "I can't explain it, but I'm scared to move. My head… my heart…"

"No, it's fine," Érzsebét knelt down beside him, taking his hand and rubbing it soothingly, "I'll carry you. You won't feel a thing."

"I already don't feel a thing," his voice was becoming increasingly slurred, "down my left side… I feel hot… it hurts…"

"All the more reason to get you on deck."

"Get yourself... and Franz out…" he tried to smile, but his face didn't seem to be working, "and that's an order."

"I'm not… I can't leave you." Érzsebét pulled her dress on over her nightdress before wrapping herself in her coat and turning to Franz, who was fully dressed and could barely move he wore so many layers.

"Is this right, Mamma?" he asked, and Érzsebét nodded, straightening his woollen hat. She picked up one of the lifebelts, slipping it over him and tightening the belt. It came halfway down his shins, and his limbs stuck out awkwardly.

"Mamma why?" he squeaked.

"You'll be glad of it later," she replied, hoping it was a lie. Still, it was a cold night and even standing on deck would be unpleasant, especially if they had to enter the lifeboats until whatever problem the ship was facing was fixed, so it would be best for the child to wear as many layers as possible. They could be in for a very cold night indeed.

"Now it's your turn, mister." Érzsebét turned back to Roderich.

"No… isn't… time. Get yourselves out."

"If you think I'm getting off this boat without you then you're sorely mistaken, dear."

"Érzi, please," he hissed; "get our son out of here. Yourself too. I can't bear… see you both in danger."

"And I can't bear to see my boys in danger," Érzsebét shot back.

"Will you two make up your minds please?" Alin drawled, fully dressed, in his lifebelt, and clutching Andrei, "we're ready to leave."

"Yes of course," Érzsebét shut her eyes briefly; "are you not going to put Andrei's lifebelt on him?"

"What's the point? It's bigger than he is. The boy would just slip out."

"Right, just give me a moment to sort Roderich out."

"Why? Not moving…"

"Don't be ridiculous. Borisov, is he in any danger?"

"Hmm," Tsvetan walked over to Roderich and placed a hand on his chest. After a few seconds, he nodded grimly. "His heartbeat is highly erratic… how do you feel?"

"Hot… prickly… I can't feel one side," it seemed as if every word was a struggle, and Tsvetan could barely understand what the man was saying.

"I fear moving him could cause an injury," he admitted, unwilling to say anything else, though be clearly knew more than he was letting on.

"Told you…" Roderich sniffed, "besides… Érzi needs to save her strength. Could need it."

"I'm not leaving you," Érzsebét whispered, picking up Franz and passing him over to Tsvetan. "Make sure both the children get on a lifeboat," she told him.

"Of course."

"God dammit Érzsebét," Roderich hissed, head lolling as his eyes rolled upwards.

"If he feels better later, we'll go up," Érzsebét said as she pushed Tsvetan out the door after Alin.

"Mamma!" Franz cried.

"It's fine, sweetie," she cooed, kissing his forehead; "Mamma just needs to talk to Papa for a minute. Be a brave boy and stay with Uncle Tsvetan." Franz nodded, sniffing loudly and blinking back tears.

"We'll make sure he's safe," Tsvetan promised before disappearing into the crowd, Franz in one hand, Alin's hand in the other.

All around the four, others like them were slowly trekking upwards to the lifeboats and the safety they promised. The ship was listing visibly, and navigating the corridors was proving to be a struggle.

"Do you remember the way to deck?" Tsvetan asked.

"Sure," Alin shrugged, before adding "we'll just follow the crowd," after a few moments' silence. Andrei wailed softly.

"Do you think they'll make it onto deck? The Edelsteins, I mean," Alin asked; "I'm not too fond of them but I don't want them to… you know… drown."

Tsvetan looked away, glaring at his shoes, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.

"The symptoms…"

"Tsvet?"

He looked up.

"I fear Mr Edelstein will be dead long before he gets the chance to drown."

…

Érzsebét closed the door and turned back to her husband, who looked absolutely furious.

"You…"

"I've never left your side and have no intention of doing so now."

Roderich didn't have the strength to reply. He just glared at her, gulping and trembling.

"How are you feeling?" she asked softly, sitting on the floor next to him and taking his hand.

Roderich opened his mouth but all that came out was a choking noise. He just closed his eyes, letting tears slide down his face and ignoring her the best he could.

…

"I've put up with this for as long as I could but I am begging you now, please take me to a first aid station!"

Alin was almost screaming by now, refusing to walk another step and using the wall to support himself. There was no one else around.

Érzsebét wheeled around, scowling at him.

"Come on, one more floor then I'll be heading straight for there."

"What would they be doing on these floors?" Alin hissed; "if they'll be anywhere, then they'll certainly be at the first aid station. Even if they're not, you can still ask around."

Érzsebét didn't reply; now it was Alin's turn to scowl.

"You're scared. You're scared they won't be there and your fantasy of them being alive will come to an end!" He stood up straight, throwing his head back and barking out a laugh. "Oh you delusional witch! Just accept they're gone."

"You bastard," Érzsebét hissed, storming forward. In his haste to back away, Alin stumbled to the floor, sitting, sprawled and dazed and even the slightest bit frightened.

"We keep searching until I say so," she hooked a hand under his arm and yanked him up, ignoring his cries, then turned around, marching towards the stairs.

"Wait, please," he let out a yelp, and Érzsebét heard a thump. She turned around to find him lying face down, sobbing and struggling to lift his head. He tried to pull himself up but his arms trembled too violently.

A painfully fresh memory stirred in her mind, one of someone else lying where he lay in probably just as much pain. The situation felt all too horrifyingly familiar to her and she found herself walking slowly towards him. Érzsebét knelt down beside Alin, rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Get off," he hissed, "just leave me alone and go find your precious family."

"You're hurt," Érzsebét said simply; "tell me where it hurts."

"My legs," he mumbled, "they're painful in some places. I can't feel my feet at all…"

"You have to get medical attention," Érzsebét told him as she gently pulled him up, supporting him with one arm. He wrapped his own arm around her waist to steady himself.

"I've been saying that since I ran into you," cried Alin, waving his free hand in the air.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You… you may have been right about searching here. Who knows, maybe everyone else will be in the dining saloon waiting for us."

"In that case," Alin grinned, "we might need to let go of each other before we go in."

"Oh definitely."

…

_1:20 am_

…

For just over an hour, Érzsebét sat in silence, watching her husband as he slept, praying that was all he was doing. He was just sleeping. He was tired. He was ill. He needed rest. Help could wait.

She folded and unfolded and refolded the small pile of his clothes resting beside her, ready in case he needed them. All the while, the listing grew more prominent, until she was leaning heavily against Roderich and her's bunk.

"Come on," she whispered, "pull through for me." Érzsebét closed her eyes as tears began to prickle, hot and painful in her tired eyes.

"Érzsebét Edelstein," Roderich murmured, opening his drooping eyes, "just for once, could you not have done as I told you to?"

"Not a chance!" Érzsebét cried, throwing her arms around his neck; "you're still here! You're still…"

"Alive?" Roderich smiled, "can't get rid of me that easily."

Érzsebét laughed, turning to pick up his clothes; "now we can le-"

"No," Roderich winced, "I fear you won't have enough time to save both of us. Just go. Forget about me and save yourself."

"You know damn well I could never do that," Érzsebét rubbed his arm.

"Go, _please_. Let me die in peace, knowing you're safe."

"You're coming with me and that's final!"

Érzsebét gently pulled him into a sitting position, starting to dress him in several layers of socks before pulling his trousers on.

"I refuse to become responsible for slowing you down. I'm telling you to leave me here!"

"What are you going to do? Stop me?" Érzsebét left his nightshirt on, throwing a jumper over his head and tugging his arms into the sleeves then wrapping him up in his old coat. All the while, Roderich protested furiously.

"Look, at least promise me that, if it comes to it, you will choose to save yourself over protecting me."

"Never."

"Please, that's my one condition." With all his strength, Roderich placed a hand on hers. "If there was a situation, and only one of us could live, then you get yourself to safety."

Érzsebét paused, digesting his words before gulping.

"Fine. But only if it came to it." She placed his hat on his head, wrapped a scarf around his neck and picked him up.

"Now, let's get out of here. We have a lifeboat to catch."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost couldn't write this.
> 
> I just feel so bad about everything I'm putting Roderich and everyone through, and things will only get worse in the next few chapters. I'm not sure I can bring myself to write them. I feel like this fic will be the reason I end up in hell.
> 
> Yes, Roderich is suffering a medical condition on top of his MD, but I cannot say until much later. Let's just say it's linked with MD, a bit like scoliosis but far more serious.


	5. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn this chapter's shorter than I thought it would be, yet somehow ends up being the one I take ages to write (maybe I shouldn't have pissed away my weekend on omegle…). And it didn't even turn out relatively well written… Sorry about that. God I'm actually embarrassed by it…
> 
> Warning for pretty graphic descriptions of gore and blood. Well, not really gore and blood, more injuries and things, but it's pretty graphic.

_9:55_

…

It turned out that Alin didn't have the strength to detach himself from Érzsebét, so they ended up entering the dining saloon together, Alin covering his face with a hand. Érzsebét considered doing the same thing, but decided against it; she wanted to keep her eyes peeled. Roderich and Franz were somewhere in here. She couldn't miss them!

No one noticed them in the crowd of a hundred or so steerage passengers gathered in the dining saloon, some waiting to see the one doctor whilst others looked for loved ones and yet more huddled on chairs and the floor, trying to warm up or come to terms with their loss. A few cried softly to themselves, others were in hysterics but most stood or sat in numb shock.

Érzsebét sat Alin down on the carpeted floor, then tried to grab the attention of the doctor. By now, most of the survivors had been seen to, so she didn't have too long to wait.

…

After Érzsebét herself had been seen to, and declared perfectly healthy, if a little on the chilly side, the doctor turned his attention to Alin, and whatever on earth was wrong with his lower legs.

He removed Alin's shoes and socks, and Érzsebét recoiled in horror at the smell of blood and the red, bleeding blisters covering Alin's feet, the skin itself also red and bloated. As the doctor rolled up Alin's trousers, more swollen, discoloured skin was revealed.

"It burns," Alin whimpered, clutching the doctor's shoulder. Érzsebét leaned in closer to find his toes had turned black, and when she reached out and touched his shin, the skin was hard and waxy. And absolutely freezing. He whimpered at the contact, trying to shuffle away.

"We need to get some cold water on you immediately." The doctor stood up straight, turning to Érzsebét. "Don't worry, your husband is in good hands."

"Husband?" they both cried at the same time, horrified at the thought. But the man was already gone.

In the moments that followed, Érzsebét and Alin mentally clawed at their brains, desperately trying to find something they could use to break the awful silence.

"I'm so sorry," Érzsebét finally whispered; "I should have listened…"

"What reason would you have to listen to me?" Alin wrinkled his nose; "besides, I wanted everyone to be alive just as desperately as you did."

"They'll still be alive," Érzsebét stated automatically. Alin just sighed.

Érzsebét sat down beside him, staring at his thin socks and worn shoes lying on the floor, both riddled with tiny holes. Under normal circumstances, she would've mocked him for his threadbare clothes, but it was all too clear that Alin understood the consequences of his ragged attire. The fact that he was dangerously thin would have done him no favours in the water either. This was probably the first time in his life that his legs had been this thick.

She forced herself to look at said legs again, stretched out on the carpet and oozing blood and pus. Luckily it was the carpet in the third class dining saloon, not the first class one, otherwise someone would be sure to complain. Though when Érzsebét recalled the kindness and compassion the Carpathia's passengers had shown to the destitute, broken survivors, she had to admit they would probably not raise any objections, at the very least out of politeness.

Alin leaned forward to massage his right leg, but hissed in pain at the touch, quickly removing his hand and sighing.

"Look, I'm going to be here for a while, and there isn't any reason for you to stick with me any more, so why don't you try and find everyone?"

"Of course. They'll be here somewhere." Érzsebét was a little hurt that they hadn't already seen them. Surely Roderich or Tsvetan would've noticed the racket Alin was making and come over, or at least one of the children.

Unless they were too ill to move?

But Érzsebét didn't want to think about that. Chances were that they were somewhere else, probably searching the ship for them. Maybe she should have searched for longer? No, Alin clearly needed immediate medical attention. She glanced around; the dining saloon was rather large, so there was always the possibility that Roderich and Tsvetan simply hadn't seen them yet. They were here though; she was willing to bet her life on that.

"If… when you find Tsvet and Andrei, point them in my direction, will you?"

"Of course!"

Alin glanced down at his legs and winced; "maybe leave it until I have my shoes on again." Neither wanted to mention that Alin's feet were so swollen that putting his shoes back on just didn't seem possible right now.

"Maybe," Érzsebét laughed, standing up and giving a final nod before moving towards the crowd, just as the doctor was returning with a bucket of cold water. She was only able to scan the destitute figures for the familiar, pointed faces of her husband and son for a few moments before an agonised cry sent her running back in the direction of her former cabin-mate.

Alin was seated on a chair now, his feet and lower legs slowly being lowered into a bucket of freezing water. His expression was contorted into one of agony and he screamed, arms flailing. Érzsebét held them down in case he was in danger of injuring himself or someone else, which only earned a shout from Alin.

"Get off! Get me out…" His shouts were slurred, as if he was choking, and his eyes rolled into his skull as his head lolled back. Another man dashed over to help, holding his legs steady as the doctor tried to stop Alin from knocking the bucket over.

"Hey come on," Érzsebét soothed, "you're doing great. Just a little bit longer. This will help you."

"Kill me," Alin hissed. "Do me a fucking favour and just end me."

"I'd rather not ruin the carpet; maybe another time." Alin let out a small chuckle before crying out again as the doctor rubbed his legs.

"Andrei!" he whimpered.

"Yes, Andrei will be here when you've finished your treatment."

"Where's Andrei? I need Andrei!" Alin lapsed back into Romanian, shaking his head furiously as he shouted.

"Andrei?" asked the stranger, still holding his legs.

"His little brother," Érzsebét explained. Thankfully, this man seemed to understand her French.

"Was he travelling on the… with you…"

"Yes, but he's here somewhere! We're trying to find him."

"I see," the stranger thought for a moment, "well, if you want to go and find him, I'm more than happy to stay here and look after your husband."

"I'm not her husband," Alin snapped before letting out a pained scream.

"He is not my husband," Érzsebét added for good measure, "but thank you. There are quite a few people left to find." And with that, she was gone.

Once more, Érzsebét found herself navigating the third class dining saloon, checking every face she could find, calling her loved ones' names softly and asking anyone who could understand her if they'd seen them.

It didn't take long to confirm they weren't there.

When she found Alin again- still with his feet in the bucket, but considerably calmer- she shook her head as she approached him. He tried to give the impression that he expected nothing less, but she could see in his eyes the disappointment and dejection, that his final hope had been dashed.

"We have to keep searching," she insisted.

"You could try the general room," suggested the stranger, who was now rubbing Alin's shoulders; "that's where the steerage passengers will be sleeping, mostly. All the public rooms will have survivors in them though."

"Thank you," Érzsebét smiled, "mister…"

"Francis. Francis Bonnefoy," the stranger- Francis- smiled. He had an honest face, Érzsebét decided, as well as a kindly smile.

"Bonnefoy?" Alin asked with a frown, scratching his chin.

But Érzsebét was already off in search of her family.

…

"I am so sorry about this," Alin began, staring up at the other two apologetically, "but I'm not going anywhere without her."

"We don't mind at all," Elizabeth told him, and Francis nodded in agreement. They were now in the corridor outside the dining saloon waiting for Érzsebét, and had been for the past hour and a half. Shortly after the woman had left, Francis had been joined by his wife, whom Alin quickly recognised as the woman who helped him earlier.

Elizabeth leaned against the wall, picking a thread in her dress; Alin sat against the wall opposite her, huddled on the floor in a blanket; whilst Francis paced between them, mouth pulled into a tiny frown.

Alin sighed, looking back down at his bandaged legs and feet, stretched out in front of him and wrapped in loose bandages. They still stung, except for certain areas, which he couldn't feel at all. It was those parts he found most worrying, but there was nothing more he could do until they arrived in New York and got him to a hospital. The doctor had mentioned the possibility of amputations, so Alin was in no rush to find out for sure.

He'd kept hold of his shoes whilst Francis and Elizabeth carried him into the hall, and even now he was still clutching the things, despite how useless they'd proved to be.

Well, it wasn't like he had many possessions now, since pretty much everything he owned was currently lying at the bottom of the Atlantic. All he had were the things he'd hurriedly stuffed into his pockets as they were leaving: one of Andrei's rag toys, a pretty shell Andrei gave him for his last birthday and Tsvetan's bible, which the other had pressed into his hands, begging to keep it safe before…

Alin realised with a cold dread that those few things could be all he had left of his family.

"Sorry about before," Elizabeth told him; "it never occurred to me that you might speak French. I guess there's one good thing about my husband's blatant refusal to bloody speak English…" Francis grinned at them both.

"It's not my first language," Alin admitted; "so it's lucky I knew it at all…"

"Oh? Well what is your first language?"

"Romanian," he looked up with a small smile, "a distant cousin of French, right? Or so I heard…"

"Correct," Francis walked over to him and sat down next to the other man; "and us Latins must stick together."

"Of course!"

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"Your friend is taking her time," Francis commented.

"She is not my friend," Alin said quickly, "and she is probably just being thorough in her searching. She really wants them to be alive…"

"And you don't think your brother and friend are alive?" Elizabeth asked.

Alin shook his head. "How could they be? I saw them… I saw…" He shuddered and swallowed the sick in his mouth, "I saw them die."

"Oh God you poor child," Francis threw an arm around Alin's shoulder, and even Elizabeth passed him over a handkerchief as he began sobbing again.

Alin took the bible and the rag toy out of his pocket, holding them close like the precious gems they were. "I didn't even try to save them," he whispered; "I just stood there and let them…" He couldn't finish the sentence through his sobs.

"Be honest with yourself," Elizabeth began, "was there any way you could've prevented their deaths?"

"I don't… I don't know," Alin admitted, "but I could've tried!"

"Would it have truly made a difference?"

"No… but at least I'd have tried! Instead of standing there frozen! I did nothing!"

"You had a human reaction. Who hasn't found themselves unable to move in times of danger? Plus, you survived," Elizabeth knelt down, taking his face in her hands, "you survived to keep their memories alive. And you must do that."

"But I miss them so much. They left a hole in my heart…"

"Which won't heal fully, but I can assure you it will get better. Smaller. Less painful. In time."

"You don't understand-"

"Oh don't I?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "my brother was five when cholera took him. I know what it's like. You're angry and outraged that someone so young can die before they have a chance of living. That they had to suffer and not fully understand why."

Alin looked away.

"You wish you died instead," Elizabeth continued; "you wish with all your heart you can take their place or at least do something to help them. But you can't and you have no choice but to watch them slip away."

"Exactly…"

Elizabeth stood up, and Francis watched her carefully as she stood next to the dining saloon door, playing with her hands nervously.

"You feel so powerless," she whispered; "so helpless. Like you're holding back a landslide. Can't imagine losing two important people at the same time so suddenly, though."

"It's not pretty," Alin sighed.

"Isn't that your… companion?" Francis asked, staring down the corridor as a bleak figure wrapped up in a lifebelt shuffled towards them.

"Edelstein?" Alin sat up, staring at her with concern, though he tried desperately not to show it.

"I did it," Érzsebét mumbled, "I checked the general room. And any other… steerage room I could find."

"And? Did you find them?" Francis dashed forward as Érzsebét dropped to her knees, arms limply hanging by her sides. Her face was blank and haunted, mouth open in a silent wail. Her tangled hair clung to her face and she seemed so small and frail in her bulky coat and lifebelt.

"I searched everywhere… asked everyone…"

"Érzsebét? Érzsebét, talk to me." Alin could only stare as Francis carried her over, setting her down next to him.

"They're… they're not…"

"Érzsebét?"

"Roderich and Franz…"

"Please…"

"Tsvetan and Andrei…"

"Don't."

"They're all dead!" Érzsebét howled and curled into a ball as she began to sob.

That was it.

Her barrier of denial was broken, and the agonising grief flooded in at last. It attacked her very soul and all she could do was rock backwards and forwards as she finally admitted it to herself. Finally, what her head had known but kept back was confessed to her aching heart.

Roderich and Franz were dead.

And it was all her fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah no flashbacks in this chapter, sorry. But the next chapter will pretty much be all flashback.
> 
> And yes, Alin has fourth degree frostbite in his feet and legs. I actually don't like feet, looking at feet, thinking about feet. Yet I write a character with a foot injury… I'm a fucking idiot.
> 
> Now it must be stressed that the treatment given to Alin (slow re-warming using snow or cold water) has been proven, in the late 19th century, the worst thing you could do for frostbite. Or one of the worst things anyway. Yet this is what people did for over a 100 years.
> 
> The correct way to treat frostbite is to re-warm quickly by immersing the affected area in warm (not hot) water for about 15-30 minutes. Do not massage the skin, even for mild frostnip. Wrap in loose bandages. For more severe cases, surgery will be required. And the faster you warm up, the more tissue that can be saved!
> 
> Of course, you also need to go to A&E as fast as possible.
> 
> But it's better to read up on it yourself. I am not a doctor! (Yet.)
> 
> Another thing to remember: if you have frostbite, do not warm up the affected area(s) if there is a chance they will get frozen again. That will cause even more tissue damage.
> 
> Hmm, nothing left to say now…


	6. Torn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really painful to write. You'll see why soon enough. I am so, so sorry about this chapter. Especially to you CT; I did bad things to your OTP! Please forgive me!
> 
> Warning for people dying, and implied drowning, near drowning, hyperthermia. And strongly implied character death.

Water was already filling the corridor by the time they left their cabin. It rose slowly at the far end, the first tiny drops only metres from them whilst the end of the corridor was submerged completely. The electric lights reflected off the surface in eerie ripples and the place was deserted, unsurprisingly.

The listing was prominent now, and it took all of Érzsebét's balance to keep them both from tumbling into the freezing water.

She set Roderich down, wrapping an arm around his waist and using her other hand to keep his arm wrapped around her shoulders, then began walking. Her husband didn't attempt to move his legs this time, partly in the hopes that she would tire of his dead weight and drop him, and partly because he was just too exhausted and ill to move. They were a few feet from the steps when his protests started up again.

"You'll never get us both onto deck," Roderich told her; "just leave me and make a run for it."

"Like I would ever do that."

There was a lurch as the ship sank further into the water, barely noticeable but enough to make Érzsebét lose her balance, and she and Roderich crashed to the floor. Érzsebét clung to the bottom step to stop herself from sliding away, but Roderich could only cry helplessly as he tumbled down the corridor.

Érzsebét pulled herself up and stumbled after him, tripping on her dress in her haste to save him. He landed in the water on his stomach, finally coming to a halt when his whole body was submerged. The lifebelt kept him relatively afloat, but he couldn't move his arms or legs, couldn't even lift his head out of the water, and just shut his eyes, trying to quell his rising, but silent, panic. He wanted to move his arms with all his heart, but they refused to even twitch.

"Hold on dear, I'll get you out now!" Érzsebét skidded across the sloping floor, landing with a splash next to him, grabbing his collar and lifting his head out of the water. The coldness of the water stung her hand, and Roderich shivered violently.

"Thank you, honey," he spluttered, teeth chattering. Érzsebét half dragged, half carried him up the stairs. More corridors followed, and the pair twisted and turned as they slowly made their way to the surface.

"Please tell me if you're tiring," Roderich huffed, "because there's no point in both of us being stuck down here."

"Oh, hush you," Érzsebét replied, "besides, we're nearly at the open deck."

And they were.

Half an hour after first leaving their cabins, the pair finally stumbled onto the deck as water was beginning to spill onto the bridge. Far below them, the propellers were rising out of the water as the last lifeboat was launched. Of course, Érzsebét was completely unaware of that; all she knew was what she could see before her: hundreds of men, women and children cluttered on the deck, clinging to the railings, davits, and each other. In the distance, there were the cries of those already in the water; muffled with the splashing oars of the lifeboats hurriedly trying to get away from the floundering ship; and crashes as chairs and other pieces of furniture were thrown into the water for the passengers to cling to when…

Érzsebét realised with dread that the ship was truly sinking.

She shifted Roderich's arm slightly, stepping forward and almost slipping on the wet, wooden deck. The couple exchanged anxious glances, before Érzsebét decided it would be best to try going towards the starboard davits. There were so many passengers left on board; surely there had to be more lifeboats left. There were probably tons of them!

But there seemed to be so little time left…

She scanned the crowd for a lifeboat, or even a crew member to tell her what to do, but there seemed to be no one. Just a sea of unfamiliar, terrified faces until…

"I don't believe it," Érzsebét growled, stomping towards a family of four, or so Roderich assumed.

"Alin! Tsvetan! I told you to get the children to safety! Why are they still here?"

The duo wheeled round, Tsvetan having the grace to look guilty as Érzsebét stormed towards them. Alin, on the other hand, took on a defensive air. Franz was still in Tsvetan's arms, nervous frown breaking into a wide grin at the sight of his parents.

"Vati! Mama!"

"See, sweetie? I told you we would come up soon," Érzsebét gave him a quick smile before turning on the two adults.

"Why isn't he on a lifeboat?"

"Because there are no lifeboats left, maybe?" Alin rolled his eyes, though he was trembling as he clutched Andrei to his chest. The toddler sniffled and whined, gazing up at his brother for reassurance.

"We only just got here a few minutes before you did," added Tsvetan.

"You mean to tell me you stayed below deck for a whole hour and a half?" Roderich raised an eyebrow.

"We couldn't get up!" Alin exclaimed; "the gates were shut and they were only letting women and children up and we couldn't exactly let the little ones go up by themselves and get crushed in the crowd."

"We tried doubling back and finding another route," continued Tsvetan, "be we just got lost."

"Franz kept falling over and started panicking, what with all the people wandering about just like us, but we eventually climbed up to the deck."

"And?" Érzsebét pressed.

"One boat left," Tsvetan grimaced at the memory.

"We tried to push forward," Alin clutched Andrei tighter to his chest; "I mean, they'd never let two adult men on in a million years, but we thought they'd at least let the children have a place."

"Didn't see them." Tsvetan shook his head; "everyone just thought we were trying to save our own skins and pushed us back. The seamen fired their guns in the air to make a point, so we didn't want to try anything."

"No point in Franz or Andrei being shot at," Alin winced; "didn't help that we weren't speaking English."

"Oh the pair of you are useless," Érzsebét took Franz back and sighed; "so what do we do now?"

The three mobile, adults clung to the railing as the ship tilted further into the water. Wave after wave swept over the forward decks, throwing more and more people into the water. Roderich just put his faith in his wife's strength, as she was the only thing keeping him from sharing that fate, and he tried his best to ignore the screams as passengers hit the freezing water.

It was a deadly kind of freezing- one that could kill in less than an hour- but only Tsvetan was aware of that. He decided not to mention to the others that the icy waters would shut down their organs and that anyone in the water only had roughly fifteen minutes to get to safety before they'd lose consciousness. And even then, survival was slim.

"Well, some of the lifeboats got washed away before the crew could launch them," the young medic explained, "in the waves and all, so me and Alin are going to chance it in the water. If we go now we can swim to one of the boats without being in the ocean for too long."

"With Andrei?" Roderich's eyebrows shot up.

"We don't have a choice! If we stay here we'll all die!"

Andrei burst into tears, and Alin rocked him gently in one arm. "Hey," he soothed, "it's fine. We will live. I'll never let anything bad happen to you, ever."

"You can do that," Érzsebét told them, "but I think we're going to look for more lifeboats on deck. They seriously can't all be gone!"

"They are," Tsvetan steadied Alin as the latter lost his balance, nearly stumbling over the railing.

"Either way, Roderich can't swim," Érzsebét's lip trembled; "we don't have a choice either. We have to try and find a boat."

"That will take a foreign steerage man?" Alin pointed out. He was ignored.

"I understand;" there was a pause before Tsvetan spoke again. "I'll tell you this for nothing: if you end up in the water, get out as fast as you can. The quicker you're out, the better chance you have of living. Good luck to the three of you." He didn't wait for a reply, and he and Alin began inching their way towards the front of the ship to find a safe space to jump from. Andrei threw a small wave over his brother's shoulder.

"Yeah, you too," Érzsebét whispered. She turned around, one arm around Roderich, the other carrying Franz, and began to make her way to the other side of the ship. There would be lifeboats on that side, right? The further forward the deck slanted, the harder she found it to stay upright. She came to a stop in front of the railing, but found the davits here empty of lifeboats too. There were no crew members either.

"I don't think you can keep hold of both of us," Roderich said finally, and Érzsebét was about to argue back when another passenger knocked into them, and she slipped over. The trio tumbled and slid towards the sea before Érzsebét hooked her boot around one of the railings, and they came to a jarring halt. Franz and Roderich were almost wrenched from her hands, but she somehow kept hold of them. Franz was clinging to her lifebelt with his tiny hands as she wrapped an arm around him and he screamed hysterically. His eyes were shut and he tried to drown out the sounds around him. But he was secure, and not going anywhere.

However…

Érzsebét stared down in numb horror at Roderich, clutching her hand and stretched out before her. Behind him was the crowded deck of the ship, sloping into the water and filled with people bobbing up and down in lifebelts, screaming and crying out for loved ones, or for some- any- form of salvation. It was a horrific stew of debris, the dying and the dead.

"Don't worry," she called to Roderich, "I've got you. You're safe." He smiled back warmly, full of love and adoration and… Érzsebét swore she saw regret and sorrow in there too.

"Érzsi…" his smile fell. Now there was only the regret and sorrow. "Remember our deal." His hand trembled in hers, while the rest of his limbs hung limply. He swallowed several times and Érzsebét noticed his hair was laced with ice crystals from his brief time in the water.

"No," she shook her head for added measure, "it's not that bad yet." She refused to believe it. "Give me a second; I'll fix this!"

"Érzsebét, you know there's no way you can save both me and Franz, so let me go!" He choked back a sob; "oh God this is really it. I'm… this is the end." For a moment, he allowed his features to be graced with fear, to reveal how utterly terrified he was about what was to come, then it was replaced by a small smile as he realised he didn't care.

Érzsebét and Franz were going to live, and that was all that truly mattered to him.

"No, it's not the end," she cried, "just keep a hold of my hand and I can pull you back up."

"You know you can't," he smiled as he blinked back tears. Érzsebét's foot slipped slightly, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold onto the railing much longer. But she couldn't just sacrifice her husband like that!

"We can manage," she whispered.

"Don't you dare go back on your part of the agreement! I need you to listen to me! Please, let go of my hand."

"Vati!" Franz had realised what was happening, and couldn't stop himself from crying noisily, clinging tighter to his mother.

"Sorry, son. You'll look after your Mamma, won't you? She's strong, but not invincible… needs someone to give her a helping hand."

"Of course, Vati," Franz nodded miserably.

"Roderich Edelstein, don't you do this to me," Érzsebét tightened her grip on his hand, but her husband just stared back, face empty of emotion.

"I love you," he told her, "and that's why I have to do this."

His grip slackened so it was only her hand keeping them together. Érzsebét held onto him as hard as she could, but his hand began to slip through her fingers. No matter how tightly she clutched his hand- so tightly it must've been painful for him- she could feel his wet, frosty skin slipping past hers. Her fingernails dug into his skin, but even that had little effect.

"No! Roderich! Please don't do this! I need you!" Her arm trembled as she felt his weight become slightly lighter each second.

"I can't see you die because of me. How could I live with myself if that happened?" Although his face was pulled into a frown, and he appeared truly sorry, Érzsebét could see something else in that face: peace.

Part of him wanted this.

A large part of his soul wanted his years of pain and misery to end, and there was nothing she could do to convince him to stay. This was the perfect opportunity for the darker side of him- the side she'd tried to fight with words and love- to win over for good, and claim the prize that was his life.

"How am I supposed to live with myself if you… I can't let you! I love you!"

"I know, and I thank you," Roderich managed one more smile before gravity won over and he slipped from her.

He fell like a rag doll, sliding across the deck and unable to stop himself as he crashed into other passengers, parts of the ship and, all too soon, the water. Érzsebét soon lost sight of him among the other passengers and debris, and just lay there, unable to tear her eyes away from the last place she saw him. Next to her, Franz screamed and wailed for his father, but Roderich wasn't coming back.

Érzsebét herself couldn't stop her screams. Even after he was long gone, she shouted for her husband to come back. Her sobs mixed with hundreds of other pained noises as more people around her accepted their fate, or fell into the water. But she didn't hear them. All she cared about was the fact that Roderich… Her beloved husband and love… There was no hope of him being alive now, was there?

In her grief, she didn't even hear the forward funnel break off and crash into the water, silencing many of the screams below. She did hear explosive crashes as- far below her- hundreds of items of furniture slid across the floor and the ship began to crack in two.

The ship rose higher, and Érzsebét pulled herself out of her miserable trance long enough to grab the railing and scramble to her feet. The ship would go under any minute now, and she would be damned if Roderich's sacrifice turned out to be in vain.

Érzsebét glanced down at Franz, who was sobbing and sniffling into her dress. She picked him up, kissing his forehead gently and tied their lifebelts together before climbing onto the railing. Her legs trembled as what she was about to do sank in, and she nearly fell forward. She had to time this carefully: too high and she could break her legs, too low and it might be too late. She also had to land as far away from the ship as possible, to avoid them being pulled down with it.

"Franz," she began with a trembling voice, "when I jump, I want you to take the biggest breath you've ever taken and hold it. Do not let go of that breath until your face is out of the water again."

"Yes, Mama," he nodded, a determined expression on his face, and she held him tightly against her chest, giving one last kiss to his little nose- so much like his father's- before steeling herself to jump.

She never got the chance.

Érzsebét lost her footing as the ship continued to take on water and the surface of the deck became steeper. She lurched forward and crashed head-first into the ocean, too close to the ship to avoid the suction, and the dying giant pulled her down with it.

The ship's lights flickered off above her and her vision turned to black as she tumbled downwards. The icy water was like hundreds of knives attacking her skin. Hundreds of knives stabbing them in the dark. She clung to Franz. The air was ripped from her mouth. She tried to scream but freezing, salty, water attacked her throat. Everything around her thundered. She couldn't tell if the distant screaming in her ears was from the other passengers or her own, terrified, mind. Her lungs burned. They needed air. She clung to Franz as the child gripped her sleeves with all his strength.

The pair spiralled downwards, until Franz was ripped from her arms. The current pulled him away and he was gone in an instant. Érzsebét blindly reached out for her child, but he had disappeared. Her mind filled with panic as she silently cried out for him. She couldn't lose him too. Where was he? She needed her son back!

Somewhere in the confusion, she managed to escape the suction, and she clawed her way to the surface. Érzsebét burst through to clean air, and was instantly met with a wave of screams. All around her, fellow passengers cried in pain and grief as they bobbed helplessly in the water. One man nearby cried out for God to save him, and others shouted out names of loved ones.

"Franz?" Érzsebét cried, twisting in every direction, but her son's long blond hair and tiny form were nowhere to be seen. "Franz? Where are you, sweetie? Come to Mamma. Please say something!" She was screaming now, but her only replies were the various cries of the adults around her, starting to grow fainter.

The Titanic was gone now. Where she once had sat majestically in the water was now filled with furniture, bodies, the dying and…

Not too far from where she resurfaced, Érzsebét spied several crewmembers huddled on what appeared to be a low-lying island. The people who still had the strength to swim headed towards it, and it began filing up fast.

"Franz?" she tried again, "if you can hear me, sweetie, then swim to where the crowd is gathered. Just kick your legs out and you'll be fine."

Érzsebét swam towards the island with all her might, lashing out with her strong arms and legs, frequently glancing over her shoulder and calling reassurances out to Franz, who was surely just a few metres behind her. As she reached the crowd of men, she realised that they weren't standing on an island, but- rather- an upturned lifeboat. Érzsebét vaguely recalled Tsvetan mentioning that some of the lifeboats had been washed overboard, and wondered if she'd find the trio huddled with the rest. Maybe they'd even found Roderich and dragged him aboard.

A shivering hand grabbed at the edge of the boat, and she scrambled up onto the keel, using the last of her strength to stand up to make room for others climbing aboard. There had to be around thirty or so men clustered on the upturned lifeboat, and even more scattered in the water around them, simply too weak to climb up and save themselves. Érzsebét could only see a handful of faces from where she stood, but none of them were familiar.

"Franz?" she uttered feebly as she stared into pitch darkness. By now, most of the screams had stopped. Franz was still nowhere to be seen.

She stared out at the sea, shivering and blinking slowly.

One blink. Franz had found something to cling to safely, or been picked up by a lifeboat.

Two blinks. Roderich had been rescued too, and sustained no fatal injuries.

Three blinks. Most of the passengers were safe.

Four blinks. There had been no screams, and no bodies in the water.

Five blinks. They were being rescued soon.

And just like that, the most traumatic aspects of the sinking had been forced to the back of her mind, ready and waiting to be accepted when reality would finally devour her hope.

…

 _16_ _th_ _April, 1912_

…

"One of the officers had a whistle," Érzsebét explained, pulling her blankets tighter around her, "and he used it to attract two other lifeboats after the sun rose. We got into one. It was terribly crowded after we all climbed in, but I honestly don't think anyone cared."

Alin just listened in silence, huddled under blankets on the settee in Francis and Elizabeth's second class cabin. His long fingers were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee and he wore one of Francis' nightshirts, Tsvetan's bible resting on his lap. The couple had decreed that they could share their cabin on one condition: that Alin didn't leave the settee, for fear he might damage his legs further.

Érzsebét lay in one of the bunks, wearing a nightdress kindly donated by Elizabeth whilst their clothes were being washed and dried. Her face was slowly regaining its colour, and she no longer just stared into space, like she had done for a full day. Only the next morning- after a fitful, nightmare-filled sleep- had she finally allowed Alin to convince her to recount her experiences of that awful night. It helped, in a way, for them to share their experiences and confide in each other.

Francis and Elizabeth had refrained from asking either of them for details on what happened, and generally left them to grieve in peace. The evening before, they'd briefly given an account of what happened to them the previous night, about waking up to find the heating in their cabins switched off and the vibrating of the engines more prominent, and how, after hearing snippets of information from other passengers and crew, news of the Titanic's grim fate trickled through to them, and they slowly realised the finest ocean liner in the world had sunk beneath the waves. Alin and Érzsebét listened politely, but neither truly cared, nor did they want to think about that night any more than necessary. Yet they could think of nothing else.

"It wasn't your fault," Alin said eventually.

Roderich's final smile and the current tearing Franz away from her flooded Érzsebét's mind, and she covered her face in shame.

"It is. I failed to protect them."

"How could you possibly protect them? You remember what happened, right? There's a good reason several hundred of us died that night."

"And what about you and your family?" Érzsebét glanced up with heavy eyes; "how did you survive?"

"And how did Tsvetan and Andrei die?" he finished with a mutter, shaking his head.

"If it's too much for you to relive-"

"I relive it every second," Alin whispered, pulling his blankets further up his body. His bandaged feet peeked out at the other end, and he hurried to cover them up. He didn't speak for a long time, and Érzsebét didn't prompt him.

"If…" he began with a broken voice, "if I hadn't… I messed up… They'd still be alive if it wasn't for me."

"Don't say that!" Érzsebét growled; "if I'm not allowed to blame myself, then you can't blame yourself either!"

"I dropped Andrei!" Alin screamed, squeezing his eyes shut to force back tears. "When we were about to jump… this wave knocked us off balance and Andrei slipped out of my hands! He slid down the deck and landed in the water. And he didn't come back up." The coffee dropped to the floor, spraying the carpet in brown liquid but Alin didn't care. He just clutched the bible, worn and leather-bound, faded Cyrillic lettering covering the front.

"Why would he come back up? He couldn't swim and didn't have a lifebelt." He shook his head, laughing bitterly. "And whose idea was it for him to go without a lifebelt?" Alin's whole body trembled as he lurched forward, loud, jerking sobs causing his shoulders to tremble.

"I can't imagine the fear that child must have felt. I just stood there, looking at the spot where he disappeared and hoping with all my heart he'd come back up. What use was doing that? But my Tsvetan…" he rested his forehead on the bible, "dear, wonderful, Tsvetan. He knew what to do."

"He did?"

"Yes. It all happened so fast. One second he was pressing this thing into my hands and making me promise to take care of it, the next he was throwing his lifebelt off and diving in after him. He did that for Andrei." The corners of Alin's mouth twitched upwards for the briefest of moments. "He sacrificed himself to try and save my child. He'd only known the both of us for about five months… but he was prepared to die for us…"

Alin sobbed into the leather and lettering; "it should have been me. I should have tried to save Andrei, but I didn't."

"How could you even have done anything?" Érzsebét demanded; "you can't help getting frozen with fear."

"Tsvetan didn't."

"And now he's not here."

"Yes I am aware of that!" Alin shouted. "He's dead and it's all because I messed up! Him and Andrei… they'd still be alive if it wasn't for me."

"Sorry…"

He just glared at his lap, breathing heavily with his lips pulled into a snarl before continuing.

"I waited for them to resurface. I stood there and silently begged for that one sight. The only thing I wanted- needed- was Tsvetan breaking through with Andrei in his arms."

"But they never resurfaced?" Érzsebét grimaced.

"Worse." Alin's lip quivered; "Andrei landed in the water at the front of the ship, where it was sinking. And where all the pressure was."

"You mean?"

"Where things were landing. People, furniture… the funnels."

"You can't mean…" Érzsebét covered her mouth with her hands.

"I saw two dark mops of hair reappear before the front funnel broke away and… and…" He shook his head, tears streaming down his face; "it crushed them."

"I'm so sorry…"

"I don't know how I got off the ship," Alin admitted, "some survival instinct must've kicked in and I just had to get away from there as fast as I could. I couldn't face being near that death-ship any longer." He played with his hands nervously. "I somehow climbed onto one of the lifeboats that got washed away, like me and Tsvet had planned to. The sides hadn't been put up and the keel was full of water, but it was better than nothing!"

He choked back another sob. "I stood there for hours, up to my knees in freezing water and feeling like a complete bastard. I thought about taking off my lifebelt and joining them in the afterlife, but was too weak to move. There were thirty or so people on that boat to begin with, but less than half that survived in the water until we were rescued. Even I paid the price for it." He rested a hand on his knee. "If I lose my legs, then I guess I could see it as part of my punishment, for killing my family. Only part though."

…

Later that afternoon, Érzsebét left Alin to sleep in peace and made her way onto the Carpathia's deck. She rested her hands on the railing, undisturbed by the other passengers as she stared across the calm sea, cold and grey and littered with icebergs.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she whispered as the wind whipped at her hair; "I tried my hardest, honest." Érzsebét sighed, briefly shutting her eyes, "but I'm sure you know that…"

She didn't speak for a few minutes, watching the foam created by the ship cutting through the water. It churned and tumbled, and made her feel ill.

"You will look after each other when I'm not here, won't you?" she chuckled, "of course you will, and I thank you for that. Roderich, Franz, I love you both so much and will never forget you. I'll make you proud, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know, I'm a terrible person. Tbh I hated myself for writing this. It was actually really hard to get out because I felt really bad about what happened to all the characters. But I managed in the end. Shocking, huh?
> 
> Only about 2 chapters left of this, but- I'm afraid to say- more sad things are to come. Okay, maybe one more major sad thing and a few minor ones.
> 
> A note on the lifeboats:
> 
> The Titanic was fitted with four canvas, collapsible lifeboats on top of her 16 wooden ones (named Collapsibles A, B, C and D). Only boats C and D were properly launched. Boat B was washed overboard by a wave, and ended up the wrong way up. Nevertheless, it saved the lives of the twenty five or so men who were able to climb aboard, including the Second Officer (Lightoller) and one of the men working in the radio room (Harold Bride). Eventually, lifeboat 12 heard Lightoller's whistle and picked up the passengers. Lifeboat 12 was the last boat to come alongside the Carpathia.
> 
> Collapsible lifeboat A was, again, never properly launched. It washed over the edge of the ship before its canvas sides could be put up, and the keel was soon filled with water. About thirty people climbed aboard in the end, but only 12-14 people were able to survive standing in the freezing water for so long. Those people were taken in by lifeboat 14, and arrived alongside the Carpathia roughly an hour before lifeboat 12. Hence why Alin had been sitting on the Carpathia for an hour before being reunited with Érzsebét. And also hence why Alin was affected by severe frostbite whilst Érzsebét wasn't.
> 
> Oh, for those who want to know: the Titanic sank at 02:20 in the morning. Roderich and Érzsebét arrived on deck at about 02:05.


	7. Collapsed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marianne- Monaco
> 
> …
> 
> Warnings for mentions of dead bodies, amputation and the briefest mention of suicide.

_21_ _st_ _April, 1912_

…

"I take it the operation was a success."

Alin just glared at Érzsebét, folding and unfolding his hands. "Well, I'm not sure if losing both my legs and my family counts as a success."

"I meant it's good that the operation didn't kill you!" Érzsebét threw her hands in the air. She was sat in a creaky old chair beside his hospital bed, surrounded by similar patients either awaiting treatment or recovering from various injuries and burns.

Alin was sat upright, trembling constantly and wincing at the slightest movement. He kept jerking his arm out to touch his shins, but was met with flat blanket. The man was in constant pain, phantom limbs aching as he lay there, woozy, still recovering from an operation that left him exhausted and sore. His legs stopped just below the knee now.

"I wish it had, in all honesty," he closed his eyes, laying back down and resting his head against the pillow.

He'd been in hospital ever since he arrived in the country.

Érzsebét could still remember her first sighting of America, tall buildings peeking through the fog and evening gloom, so new and grand, though she couldn't take in their beauty. She couldn't allow herself to be thrilled with what she was seeing, because it felt so wrong to be seeing it without Roderich and Franz.

Neither she nor Alin found the experience all too pleasant as they stood on the deck with Francis and Elizabeth. It was a stormy night, lightening mixed with the flashes of hundreds of cameras whilst the fog horn blared above them. From the deck chair Francis had carried him to, Alin flinched at the loud noises and Érzsebét begrudgingly held his hand as his mind was forced back to the sinking, to the crashes as tons of metal were ripped apart and the enormous funnels fell into the ocean. Fell onto his family struggling in the water.

As the Carpathia drew closer to land, Érzsebét bade farewell to Francis and Elizabeth and carried Alin back inside, along with the other steerage passengers waiting to disembark. When the doors finally opened, she supported Alin as they crossed the gangplank onto dry land. The crowds were almost crushing. Other passengers- still in various states of shock- ambled past to search for loved ones, and members of different charity organisations rushed forward to cover them in blankets and offer new clothes to them. Érzsebét gestured to Alin's bandages, and they were somehow shown to the nearest hospital.

Alin hadn't left since.

"Well you're stuck here," Érzsebét smiled, taking his hand. "I'll look after you. It's the least I can do."

"Oh, I feel safer already," Alin replied flatly. Érzsebét responded by snatching his pillow and throwing it in his face.

"Well that was nice of you," he replied before throwing it back. It hit Érzsebét in the arm and earned them both a glare from a nearby nurse. Alin chuckled lightly before his smile fell and he sighed.

"I wish Tsvetan and Andrei were here…" he looked away; "no offence, but they'd know how to cheer me up."

"I'm also guessing them just being alive would eliminate most of the causes of your needing cheering up."

"Yes, definitely."

There was more silence between them. The same awkward, crushing silence that only came when both parties knew that neither particularly fancied the other's company.

"New job good?" Alin eventually asked.

"Yes, not too bad. Everyone there's nice. Tiring though."

Érzsebét had not expected to find work so soon. She'd only entered the tiny Italian restaurant- after dropping Alin off at the hospital- for a bite to eat as she looked for somewhere to stay. It was the early hours of the morning now and Érzsebét was quickly resigning herself to a night sleeping in an alley somewhere, until she struck up a conversation with the waitress, a young French girl whose Uncle owned the place. After Érzsebét explained where exactly she had come from, and what ship she had been travelling on, the girl- Marianne- had suddenly become more excitable, calling over her Uncle and three cousins so they could hear her story. Érzsebét told them all she could bring herself to, Marianne translating to her sympathetic family, and the old man running the restaurant placed a hand on her shoulder, mumbling something that Marianne translated as words of comfort.

They offered her a place to stay, in exchange for her cleaning services. Érzsebét was truly touched by the gesture, and amazed that humans could actually be so kind to one another. As devastating as these few days had been, they'd certainly shown her how beautiful people could be.

"There's a job open for you there too," she began, "if you want it. Old man Vargas says there's another room available at the restaurant, if you don't mind doing a bit of sewing and dish washing."

"I can handle that, thank you," Alin smiled; "truly, that takes so much weight off my shoulders… I feel a bit less useless now."

"You're not useless," Érzsebét said quickly before giving a small cough, "I mean, you're annoying, and stupid, but not useless. Or… entirely bad, I have to admit."

"If that is you giving a compliment, then I'd hate to see you giving an insult."

"I'll save my insults for another day. When you're feeling a bit less sore. Wouldn't want your feelings to hurt too."

"How kind of you," Alin rolled his eyes and didn't speak for a long while.

Érzsebét took a small book out of her coat pocket and handed it to him. Alin stared down at the faded, familiar Cyrillic and smiled.

"You kept it," he sighed.

"Did I have a choice?" Érzsebét pulled Andrei's shell and rag toy out of her other pocket; "you told me to look after these things while you had your surgery."

"Thank you," Alin held them all close; "I don't know what I'd have done if they'd been lost." He brushed a thumb over the doll's face, blinking back tears.

"I wager…" he began, "that you wish you had something to remember your family by too…"

Érzsebét narrowed her eyes; "of course. I'd give anything to have one small token…"

Alin gave the tiniest of smiles. "Look in my coat pocket."

Érzsebét stood up and made her way to the end of Alin's bed, where his coat was folded over the railing, and tentatively dipped a hand in one of the pockets.

"There better not be a mouse trap in here," she hissed; Alin just laughed.

"No, but that's a good idea!"

"Ugh, this is so gross," Érzsebét's fingers wrapped around something small and flat, and she pulled her hand out to reveal a tiny, dark ribbon.

"It seems in all the confusion of getting everyone ready to leave, I may have taken something that wasn't mine. An honest mistake."

"Franz's ribbon…" Érzsebét snaked the ribbon through her fingers, staring at it as she shuffled back to her chair. When she was seated again, she brought the ribbon to her nose, taking in the faint scent of her son. The son she would never see again. The son that would never grow up. She forced back tears.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It's alright," replied Alin; "I'm only sorry I didn't grab something belonging to Mr Edelstein too. He seemed like a nice man…"

"He was a wonderful man," Érzsebét corrected. She clawed at her hair until it tumbled over one shoulder, and began pulling it into a messy plait.

"As was Tsvetan…" Alin wiped a speck of dust off the bible; "I wish I could read this. But I can't even read in my own language, let alone…"

"Maybe you could if you leant Bulgarian," suggested Érzsebét. She finished her plait, giving the ribbon one last sniff before using it to tie her hair in place. At least now she would have one small part of her son with her forever.

"Still wouldn't make any difference. Tsvetan was educated after his family fled to Moscow, remember? The book's in Russian…"

"I see…"

Alin wrinkled his nose, "and it's all I have to remember him by…"

"You still have the memories themselves."

"True…"

"Why did he care about it so much? Or enough to give to you, at least? He didn't seem like a religious man."

"He was- no more than any other man, mind you- but…" Alin paused as he carefully chose his words, "he had a… strange relationship with his faith. Or at least, he did after meeting me."

"Conflict?" Érzsebét raised an eyebrow.

"What an understatement," Alin closed his eyes, taking a deep, rattling breath before continuing; "he loved me- so much- but he was terrified of going to hell for loving me. The day we first kissed was the day he stopped going to church. Probably thought he'd burst into flames if he stepped into the building or something. Or he couldn't take the glaring statues. He was just so scared that he'd done something terrible, no matter how normal and… natural it felt being a couple."

"And he told you all this?"

Alin nodded slowly; "that morning after the service when we were up on deck. Andrei was toddling near the lifeboats and there was no one else about- it was too cold- and he just told me everything. I knew he was torn up about something ever since we met but…"

Érzsebét looked away. She remembered every time Roderich had expressed doubts about their relationship, and how he feared he would never be good enough for her. No matter how many times she told him she could never love another- and even after Franz was born- he was still convinced that she would be better off leaving him. She knew it was a scary situation, and knew roughly how Alin must be feeling, to have such a strong belief in your love only to be told it wasn't right by the one person who was supposed to be in love with you.

"Losing Tsvetan and Andrei at once- and watching them go- is definitely the worst feeling in the world," Alin began in a shaky voice, "but hearing that you're the reason the person you love contemplated hanging himself comes in close second…"

"He didn't…"

"Couldn't take the guilt, I guess. Still," Alin murmured as he ran a finger over the edge of the book cover, "at least now he knows he had no reason to worry. I hope."

…

Until a few months ago, Érzsebét had never even in her wildest dreams believed she would ever travel to a country outside of Austria-Hungary. Her journey through France- with her husband and child on their way to a new life- had proved that wrong. The prospect of going to America- a new country across the sea filled with so many opportunities- was an even greater cause of joy for her.

Of course, _that_ had turned into tragedy.

But now she was on a train hurtling through yet another new country. Only this time she was staying for just one night.

She was not fully paying attention as she crossed into Canada, focused on trying to quell her rising panic. She might be seeing them again. Not alive, of course, and that was the problem.

Could she honestly face seeing their dead bodies?

She had been informed that the Mackay-Bennet had been chartered to collect the bodies from the sea for relatives to claim, and they'd been taken to the address she had before her. The Mayflower Curling Ring in Halifax? Sounded like an odd place to take bodies to. Still, that wasn't her most pressing concern right now.

What state would they be in? Could she handle such a sight? Their sunken eyes staring up at her? The sight could be enough to evoke a dangerous amount of guilt. They'd been out there for over a week now and she honestly didn't think she could get through the whole day.

She didn't even have Alin to distract her. He could at least break the silence every now and again, tell her they would be fine. Or at least share in her fears. But he was back in hospital, still recovering from his operation and still unable to move. She supposed it was time to start saving up for a wheelchair for him, once she'd paid the hospital fees…

It was a good thing she found a job so soon because life in America was getting real expensive real quick.

Érzsebét wondered how it was possible to become so dependent on Alin's company in such a short space of time, given that they'd despised each other from the moment they'd met. She knew she was free to walk out of his life forever and not have to worry about taking care of him, and he wouldn't resent her for it, but couldn't. She couldn't leave him alone in that state. Then again, neither truly had anyone else to care for them. Not any more.

Although he would never replace Roderich in her heart- or even come close- Érzsebét knew she was treating Alin like she would her husband. It was supposed to be Roderich that she carried around and looked after, Roderich that she saved up to buy a wheelchair for.

Alin had told her not to bother looking for Tsvetan and Andrei- that they'd gone down with the ship- but she had to be certain. She owed it to that aggravating man lying in a hospital bed back in New York, and to Roderich and Franz, who had valued the other family's company greatly.

Érzsebét ran her fingertips over her plait again, brushing against the tiny ribbon.

The train rattled onwards, and she sat in agonising silence.

…

Érzsebét was surprised to find policemen and soldiers outside the curling rink, but soon realised they were simply there to keep morbidly curious members of the public at bay. They would probably be there for the next few weeks, as family members arrived from both sides of the Atlantic in the desperate search for their loved ones, but thankfully the residents of Halifax gave the place a wide berth, to give mourners the space they needed.

Érzsebét was greeted by mortician- a young, kindly man- outside the building, who led her through a corridor into a large, dimly lit room, where rows of body bags lay on tables. There were others being led past rows of bodies by morticians, but Érzsebét didn't stare at them. 

Érzsebét's first thought was that it was freezing. The ice rink of the curling club wasn't cold enough to match the conditions in the North Atlantic, but it was the perfect temperature to store dead bodies in. She couldn't help remembering though. As she shivered, her mind cast back to when she was stood on that upturned lifeboat, ice in her hair and too exhausted to shiver. Crying out feebly for her family.

Maybe it was fortunate after all that Alin couldn't come with her.

"So, Miss," began the mortician, who'd introduced himself as Mr Jones, "who are we looking for today." He tried to give a reassuring smile, and remain professional, but Érzsebét could see the day was taking its toll on him.

"Two men and two children. Steerage."

"Well, let's start with the children," Mr Jones led her to the end of the room containing the smallest body bags. The very sight of it tore Érzsebét's heart.

"Yes, two small boys. One aged six with long blond hair. The other aged three with dark hair."

"Well, we'll soon see if they're here." Mr Jones walked over to the nearest body and unzipped the covering. Érzsebét only needed one quick glance to tell her that the dead child was neither Franz nor Andrei.

"No?" Mr Jones sighed, pushing his glasses further up his nose. "Never mind. We'll just try again."

…

Érzsebét was more than a little ill by the time she stumbled onto the sunny street outside the curling rink. After an hour of forcing herself to stare at broken, decomposing bodies, she finally accepted that Roderich and Franz were not among them.

She couldn't get the images out of her mind. Hundreds of men, women and children lying frozen, some with bruises covering their faces. Some barely dressed. Some in little more than rags. Some of the faces were twisted into expressions of agony, whilst others conveyed terror.

The children had been the worst. Tiny, fragile bodies, cold and stiff, wrapped in coats that did nothing to protect them from freezing to death. Children with bruises and broken bones. Children whose faces had been attacked by seabirds as they floated lifeless in the water. Children who would never see their next birthday, like Franz and Andrei.

Érzsebét began walking along the pavement, not caring too much about where she was headed to. She ambled along in deep thought. Maybe it was best that Roderich and Franz's bodies hadn't been found. At least this way she only had memories of them when they were alive, perfect and unbroken. They would always be how she last saw them: alive, very much alive. Roderich's loving, tearful, smile. Kissing Franz's soft, warm forehead plastered with fine, silvery hair.

She reached another deserted lane, and ran into a young man as he left a small shop, face buried in a newspaper.

"Sorry," he said in a quiet voice, smiling apologetically and folding the newspaper under his arm.

"Likewise," she mumbled, taking in his appearance. A few glances told her he had soft, bouncy hair and glasses, but what interested her most was his sailor's attire. When she enquired about it, he nodded sadly.

"Yes, I just got back from a trip on the Mackay-Bennet… Oh, my name's Mathew."

"Érzsebét."

Mathew looked at her curiously; "you're… you've come to collect a relative, haven't you?"

Érzsebét nodded. "My husband and son."

He pulled his mouth into a grimace. "And did you find them?"

"No, I did not."

Mathew nodded, "I see. Sorry to hear you were unsuccessful."

"It's probably for the best…"

"Yes. I'm sorry I couldn't find them though. But we only found less than 200 people altogether. And a lot were buried at sea…"

Érzsebét's head shot up at that; "you buried people at sea too?"

Mathew took a step backwards. "Um, yes, but only the ones who were too disfigured to be recognisable!"

"So there's a chance you saw my husband and son?"

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Mathew asked nervously, "the ones we buried were unrecognisable!"

"Can I at least ask?"

Mathew thought for a moment before sighing. "Fine, go ahead."

"Well, my son has long blond hair, down his back. He was six…"

Mathew shook his head; "doesn't match the descriptions of any of the children I saw."

"What about my husband? He has dark brown hair and glasses. And a mole on his chin. He was wearing a thick coat over a nightshirt and trousers. Very skinny. Pointed face. Long, thin nose."

Mathew looked away.

"You didn't see him either?"

"No, I… I think I might have." Mathew didn't continue and Érzsebét growled.

"Yes? Well?"

"I… don't know how to tell you this…"

"There was something wrong with his face?"

"Yes, in a sense," Mathew shook his head, "look, I'm not sure I _should_ be telling you this…"

"Please do. I must know what happened to him!"

"I found… I found a body- a man- matching your description. Most of his limbs had fractures. Large ones, that seemed to have shattered the bones in several places. His ribs and pelvis were the same way. And his back had snapped too."

Érzsebét covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh God, Roderich…"

"I don't think that's what killed him though," Mathew continued, looking visibly uncomfortable.

"Oh?"

"There was something odd about his face. Something other than the bruises and the marks from seabirds."

"What kind of odd?"

"It was like it had collapsed down one side. One half was fine, but the other drooped down, like it had deflated or something. It was very strange…"

"Anything else?"

"Not that I can remember."

Érzsebét placed a hand on Mathew's upper arm. "Thank you, sir. Thank you for everything."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> White Star Line chartered several boats to pick up bodies in the Atlantic after the sinking; the Mackay-Bennet was the first, and the ship that picked up the most bodies. The Titanic victims were then taken to Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, as that was the nearest city with rail connections to America, so relatives could claim the bodies easier. The Mayflower Curling Club was transformed into a temporary morgue, due to its size and the amount of ice it contained.
> 
> Roderich's side condition- which ultimately killed him- was a stroke. During the day before his death, he had suffered a series of transient ischaemic attacks, or mini strokes. These have the same symptoms of a stroke, but only last for a few minutes, and are usually precursors to a real stroke.
> 
> The thing to remember about strokes is to think F.A.S.T.! Meaning- Face, Arms, Speech, Time to call an ambulance.
> 
> Face: If one side of their face is drooping, or they cannot smile.
> 
> Arms: Can they lift both arms? Or only one?
> 
> Speech: Can they speak clearly? Is their voice slurred?
> 
> Time: If they're showing any of these signs, then call the emergency services!
> 
> …There are probably NHS videos that explain it better. You all should probably watch some.
> 
> Sorry for the lecture… Again, not a doctor so please read this up for yourself.


	8. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the final chapter. Wow, it's been a while since I finished something! Starting things, on the other hand, it appears I'm very good at. Thank you to everyone who's taken an interest in this story!
> 
> Warning for a graphic suicide scene in this chapter, which I'm truly sorry about.

_Autumn, 1916, four years later_

…

Blood stains were frustratingly hard to remove.

Érzsebét stepped over them- black and faint, seemingly burnt into the wooden floor- and strode over to the door. She tried not to look at the wheelchair in the corner, recently bought and already out of use, or the tiny box on the mantle piece filled with a handful of someone else's precious possessions that she wasn't sure what to do with. She tucked a lock of hair- which had fallen out of her plait- behind her ear, and walked out of the tiny apartment she had moved into last year. It was close to the Vargas' restaurant- where she had been promoted to waitress after a few months- but gave her some space of her own. Too much space, if she was honest. It had been fine when it was her and Alin, and their bickering and jokes filled the place, but now...

She brushed her fingers against her plait. The ribbon was still in place.

The air outside was cold and crisp that morning as Érzsebét walked past dead leaves covering the pavement. A few motor cars and bicycles passed along the road next to her, and people bustled past her on their way to work, but she was generally ignored. Her shoes tapped against the concrete below her as she stepped aside to avoid a group of pigeons.

She turned into a smaller street, revelling in the late autumn sun on her face.

Then she entered the cemetery.

It was just like the countless other times she'd visited in the past six months on her days off: grey and dreary, rows of headstones in neat lines, grass and weeds growing between them. Some of the headstones were new, bright lettering shining in the sun whilst others were old and crumbling, some kept in relatively good condition whilst others had been left to fall apart, with no loved ones alive to tend them. A murder of crows cawed in a tree in the corner.

Érzsebét walked briskly to the grave she came to visit, twisting and turning along the path until she reached it:

_Alin Radacanu_

_1892-1916_

_May his soul finally be at peace._

She sat down on the grass at the foot of the grave, sighing as she stared at the fresh, clean lettering.

"Morning, Radacanu," Érzsebét spoke with a whisper; "sleep well?" As expected, the world around her remained silent.

…

As usual, it had been a long day at work, and Érzsebét hoped that Alin wouldn't be his usual snarky, embittered self. It was a shame that he didn't get many opportunities to speak to other people, since their relationship had gone from bad to worse in the past few months and the only time he seemed to open his mouth was to snap at her or cry out softly in his sleep. He'd quit work after they moved, claiming he didn't want Érzsebét carrying him down the stairs each day because it was too humiliating, and he didn't want to ask for his old room at the restaurant back. Mr Vargas still sent him sewing to do for a small wage, so he had something to do, but he wasn't getting any sunlight or fresh air.

He denied all of Érzsebét's offers to take him out for a walk though, and he couldn't get out by himself. He just sat in his bed or wheelchair all day, glaring at the wall opposite. He hadn't left the house in months.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried about him.

She walked up the steep, wooden stairs in the dimly lit hallway to her apartment, wincing as her sore joints protested at the movements. She'd spent all day running between tables and was exhausted, and looking forward to relaxing. Still, at least her close friendship with Marianne and the Vargas brothers made things bearable. The middle child, Feliciano reminded her of Franz in many ways, and the thought that those two would never meet pained her. The sun had long gone down and her mind was filled with images of her warm bed, all thought of Alin and his problems pushed to one side.

She leaned heavily against the door for a moment whilst she caught her breath, and instead caught the sickening scent of blood.

Érzsebét practically slammed the keys into the door as she tried to open it with trembling hands. Bile rose in her throat as she threw the thing open- ignoring how the handle smashed against the thin wall, leaving a dent- and stumbled into her single room.

There was Alin, lying dead in a puddle of his own blood.

He lay on his back in the middle of the room, arms spread and face staring unseeing at the door. A messy gash crossed his throat, and even now, blood continued to bubble out and join the drying stuff on the floor and Alin's clothes. His face was blue from suffocation, eyes bulging out of their sunken sockets as more blood dribbled from his mouth.

Érzsebét gagged as she ran forward, checking for a heartbeat even though she knew it was futile. He must have been dead for at least an hour now.

A kitchen knife was held in the palm of his stiff hand, and she kicked it away before it could inflict any more harm, not wanting to touch the thing. It skidded across the floor and hit the wall, spraying tiny bloodspots across the wood.

"What have you done to yourself?" she sighed as she stared down at the other's expression, frightened and screaming regret. Tears began to burn her eyes as she pushed his hair out of his forehead with a trembling hand.

More blood stained his nightshirt, thin lines of dried droplets running down his torso, and she lifted the nightshirt up to find more cuts, shallow this time. There were similar marks on his arms, like he was trying to drag out his pain, to ruin his body further. The amount of self-hatred he must have been harbouring…

An envelope was clutched in his other hand, crumpled and splattered with red droplets. After a moment's hesitation, Érzsebét took the envelope and stuffed it down her boot; she would read his suicide note later.

Right now, all she could focus on was trying to convince the outside world it wasn't a suicide.

"Help!" she cried, running into the hall and banging on her neighbour's door, "murder!" she slammed her palms against the next door down, continuing along the corridor and shouting at the top of her voice. "Get the police! Someone help!"

…

"Are you happy wherever you are?" Érzsebét asked, crouched down in front of the headstone, pulling a pair of scissors from her bag and snipping away at the overgrown grass surrounding it.

"Have you met Tsvetan and Andrei again?"

These were questions she asked every time. Érzsebét knew it was silly and childish, but talking to Alin made her feel better about the whole thing, even if he would never hear her or reply again.

"Are they glad to see you again? Though they were probably watching you the whole time, you know? I wager they're pretty cross with you, even now."

She looked at the writing on the grave and sighed.

"I'm still cross with you too. Dammit, you should've talked to me about this! I could've helped you, or at least made sure you were somewhere where you couldn't hurt yourself."

A few other people entered the graveyard from time to time, ignoring her and making their way to the graves of their own friends and relatives.

"I guess things would be even more awkward between us if you were still here," she began, "apparently your country is at war with mine. And Tsvetan's, if I recall. Hope that isn't causing any problems up there."

She set the scissors down.

"Why did you have to leave me alone like this?"

…

Érzsebét sat in the corner of the room, sobbing as police examined Alin's body and plied her with questions. She wrapped her arms around her torso, crying like a sailor's wife staring at a storm. She couldn't bring herself look at Alin again.

She claimed her room mate had been murdered, and that she'd found his body. Of course, only the last part was true.

She couldn't tell anyone the truth. She couldn't allow Alin's memory to be ruined by the judgements of his neighbours, who would call him terrible things without understanding his situation. They would shun him without a hint of compassion, and make sure he couldn't be buried properly. They didn't know what Tsvetan meant to him, and could never know. Even hearing about Andrei's death, and how Alin blamed himself for it wouldn't offer him any sympathy. He'd committed the ultimate sin, the one thing that couldn't be forgiven, that allowed no chance to repent. And that was unacceptable to them.

She never liked Alin, but Érzsebét didn't want people to hate him for the effects of his own grief. And besides, she was used to keeping his darkest secrets by now.

"Do you know who could have done it?" one of the officers asked.

"I… I don't," Érzsebét shook her head, "he didn't know anyone. Didn't go outside ever."

"Do you know any motives for someone to murder him?"

"Not him personally. Maybe there was a burglar who just wanted no witnesses?"

"Possibly, but nothing seems to be disturbed. It doesn't even look like he put up much of a fight."

 _That's because he didn't._ "Maybe he was set on from behind?"

"Who knows? But don't worry madam, we'll find out who killed your…"

"Friend."

"Friend. Well, we'll get to the bottom of this."

Érzsebét knew they never would. Not only because there was no murderer, but because they would soon lose interest. What did they care about some penniless, disabled immigrant?

Alin would be forgotten within weeks.

…

"The neighbours aren't talking to me any more," Érzsebét commented, starting to snip at the grass again, "because of the fighting back in Europe. Because my country is fighting with Russia and some other places for reasons none of us really know. You would probably stop talking to me too, since our countries are fighting as well."

She leaned back and sighed.

"It's not very comforting to know that staying at home would have killed Roderich and Franz too. I don't know what's happening to my home but war is never good, is it? It's like they were doomed."

A crow landed a few feet from her, cawing loudly before flapping away.

"Your country always seems to be fighting Tsvetan's now. To think that, if you'd stayed, you'd both might even have fought against each other. Maybe even killed each other. Not nice to know, huh? At least me and Roderich would have been together until the end."

At the other end of the graveyard, someone broke down in front of a headstone, their wails cutting through the still air.

"I want to leave here," Érzsebét admitted; "no one likes me, apart from old man Vargas and his family. Everyone says war will start here too soon. I don't know where I would go though. Besides, I can't leave you. You're my only link to… to them."

She covered her mouth with a hand as tears began to spill.

"I don't even have a grave where I can mourn my own husband and child."

…

Érzsebét could only bring herself to read the letter days later, long after the police had taken Alin's body to the morgue. It was the night before his funeral, a quiet affair that only she and the Vargas family would be attending. Marianne had asked around, and they'd eventually found an Orthodox priest to perform the service. If they gave Alin a Catholic funeral, he'd probably come back, with strong words.

The flat was empty of life, except for Érzsebét herself, sat on the edge of the bed and trying desperately not to look at the bloodstains on the floor.

She tore the envelope open with trembling hands, unfolding it and staring at Alin's untidy scrawl, made all the more near-unreadable by the tears that blurred the ink and the blots left across the page by a shaky hand.

_Érzsebét._

_I'm so sorry about this, but I couldn't take living any longer. All I think about when you're gone is how I let my own brother slip from me like that. How I let Andrei and Tsvetan die right in front of me. They were my entire world and I have planned to join them from the moment they died._

_Took me four and a half years to try, it seems._

_I'm a coward, Érzsebét, as you've probably long realised. I don't care what you think of me for this; though, all the same, please try to understand my motives. I need to apologise to them._

_It's not like I'm of use to anyone alive._

_I don't deserve to live._

_Nevertheless, please find me before it's too late. I'm probably going to regret this the moment I do it._

_Farewell._

_Alin Radacanu._

Érzsebét reread the letter as many times as she could before tears obscured her vision and she could see the writing no longer. Everything before her was a blur of white and black, broken only by the dim candlelight dancing across the paper.

She should've known before. It was clear he'd been suicidal. How could she not see the warning signs? Maybe if she'd just talked to him…

She of all people knew how dangerous guilt can get.

Érzsebét wondered if she'd ever forgive herself for allowing Alin's own guilt to kill him so brutally.

…

"It was nice talking to you again," Érzsebét said as she stood up, wiping the remains of her tears from her eyes.

"I miss you, you know? Like how I miss everyone else. Never thought that would happen. I used to think- back on the ship- that I'd be glad to see the back of you, but not now. Funny how things turn out, huh?"

Then she walked out, refusing to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there how did you all like the first chapter? Please tell me if you did!
> 
> Now, this chapter was inspired by all the angry, political, Irish folk songs about emigration I listen to, particularly 'One by One' by Creed's Cross, which even reference this particular event in their music video. Please watch it.
> 
> The title of this story comes from another song that inspired it: 'the Voyage' by Christy Moore, which is one of my favourite songs ever and also one of the sappiest songs I know. It reminds me of Sufin more but is also good for this particular fic.
> 
> Oh, and Roderich's condition is emery dreifuss muscular dystrophy, for those who want to find out more.


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